Gretchin Slayer
by BIBOTOT
Summary: The Adeptus Astartes are Mankind's most powerful warriors tasked with defending the Imperium from the unbearable horrors lurking among the stars. Within its ranks, however, there is one unlike any other - a Space Marine dedicating his entire existence to the eradication of Gretchins everywhere. He is Gretchin Slayer and this is his story.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

**Strange meeting**

The young girl, barely in her teenage years, flew herself at the pile of metal debris even as bullets and flame flew around her. Her blond hair was dirtied with soot and smoke, as was her white and blue clergy outfit. Her vision was blurry and she vaguely heard someone shouting over all the fighting and destruction around her, calling her to flee. She would flee eventually for she had no wish to remain in this Emperor forsaken place any longer, but she would not do so alone.

Digging up the pile of metal was no easy task. Many pieces were sharp and the young girl had several cuts on her hand for her effort.

"Sister, can you hear me?" she begged. "Sister Superior, are you alright?"

The girl was elated when she finally found the hand belonging to the one trapped under the debris. She wasted no time pulling her out. The Sister Superior was clad in carapace armor which allowed her to avoid most of the harm from having a bunch of metal objects of different shapes and sizes falling upon her, but not all of them. A thin metal pipe had pierced her in the chest. Despite the lack of leg injuries, it was clear that she would not be able to move on her own.

"Leave me," said Sister Superior weakly. Her carefully braided brown hair was a complete mess and she could only open one of her eyes due to a trail of blood dripping from the top of her head. She coughed out more blood as she struggled to speak. "I will only slow you down. I am done for, but you can be saved."

"Don't say that," the blond-haired girl replied, exasperated. Though they had not been particularly close to each other, she could not leave anyone behind and not feel guilty about it. After all, it was her sacred duty to maintain the health and combat readiness of her sisters in arms – failing to do so was failing the Emperor himself. "We'll get out together. Just keep up."

"It is my fault that we end up… like this," explained Sister Superior. "I have failed you and our sisters. Let me join the Emperor's side – only He could forgive my mistake."

Ignoring her commander's plea, the blond-haired girl hoisted the other girl's arm onto her shoulders and dragged her out one step at a time. The Sister Superior protested verbally but not physically for her body had gone numb from the pain. The blond-haired girl did not look back. She perfectly knew doing so could warn her of the impending danger, potentially saving the lives of her and the woman she was carrying – she couldn't look back and find out what fate had befallen her comrades.

There used to be four.

Now there were two. One was definitely dead, another probably also dead. Not to say the chance of survival of the blond cleric and her wounded comrade was particularly high.

So how did it get to this?

Just an hour ago, the four of them were contemplating returning to the monastery after a day of patrolling in the area surrounding the convent they lived in. The group included a Flamer-wielding Sister, a Repentia, the leading Sister Superior and the girl herself, a Hospitaller in charge of healing and prayers. Six Orks were found on three separate incidents and taken care of quickly. The aliens were tough, as to be expected, but not very bright, and they died as well as anything that lost their head or had their midsection torn in half. The Adeptus Sororitas initiates followed the meticulously prepared instruction by the Convent Mistress and things went about as smoothly as it could have and no member was injured in the process, at least at first.

The sun was almost set and they were all tired, yet satisfied with the work done for the day, so Flamer-wielding Sister had suggested they should be heading back earlier for bathing and hot food. Sister Superior had rejected the idea and insisted on continuing the sweep, stating that Gretchins had been reported to have stolen food and electrical items from nearby farms and were holding up inside the wreckage of a Gargant. After debate, the rest of the team acquiesced to their leader's order despite knowing they were not prepared to make battle within such confined and utterly alien environment in the belly of a giant war machine built by the Orks.

Flamer-wielding Sister had initially argued that the Gargant had yet to be completely demolished or scuttled two months after meeting its demise for a reason and that the Adventure Guild appeared to have had taken interest in it so that a team of Adventurers would come eventually to deal with this. Sister Superior also dismissed any assistance from the so-called Adventurers. The local forces of the Adeptus Sororitas welcomed any who fought in defense of this planet but mistrusted those who considered money more important than the Emperor himself. According to Sister Superior, this piece of land comprising two rivers and one small town belonged to the Ecclesiarchy; it was their duty to protect it, not outsiders'.

Hospitaller didn't take part in the discussion and merely followed decisions made by her more experienced and combat-hardened sisters. Though she knew this was a bad idea, she went with it in the end. Repentia accepted it either way – she had already embraced martyrdom when she accepted her current position.

The Ork Titan was as marvelous as it was horrific. It resembled a gigantic version of a construction toy made by a child than anything that was constructed with a blueprint and a purpose in mind. In its death, the thing loomed over the valley like a small mountain; the multitude of guns and spikes protruding from it could be mistaken for trees from afar.

Hospitaller wasn't exactly sure how they got to this place inside the Gargant. She remembered entering through a massive hole on its side. The blackened metal suggested a cannon shell had hit the Gargant in the loading compartments to one or several of its guns, causing a catastrophic explosion that likely crippled it. Blood splatters on the floor, walls, and ceiling indicated someone was alive there when the hit happened but probably not afterward.

The group had moved in single file through the clogged corridor surrounded by strange alien pieces of machinery which Sister Superior warned not to pay any heed to. Repentia had taken the lead, followed by Sister Superior who carried a lantern with her, then Hospitaller and Flamer-wielding Sister covered the rear. The air was extremely thick with oil and metal, almost unbearable, but they marched on. Hospitaller couldn't recall which direction they took once they were inside. _Was it left and left or left and right? _The whole place felt like a maze and the directional signs were Orkish and indiscernible.

Flamer-wielding Sister had been twitchy and no doubt had been about to claim the whole venture into this place fruitless and insist that they should get out of there when the first Gretchins had shown up. Like the Orks, these creatures were green-skinned, but the similarity ended there. The Gretchins were the size of a human child and had scrawny features with long limbs and sharp ears and nose, whereas most Orks were burly with muscles. Any Ork's decision to encounter hostile would be to fight back, but the Gretchins had turned tails and fled when running into the Sisters of Battle. Despite their build which suggested a level of agility, the tiny Xenos were as slow and clumsy with their surroundings as their five-hundred-pound masters. The first skirmish had gone well.

But the advantage didn't last. Galvanized by the initial victory and slaughter of the foe, the Sisters of Battle had pressed onward deeper into the belly of the beast, and that was where the ambush was sprung. The floor beneath them had collapsed, causing the four to tumble down two levels below and into an open ground which apparently was used as gathering ground for the garrisoning Orks – more than just the ultimate tool of destruction, the Gargant was also a massive transport capable of bringing an entire army into the thick of battle. There, the Gretchins had been waiting and attacked in force. There were dozens of them. Their weapons were crude even by Ork standards, but sheer number made up for the lack of efficiency.

Flamer-wielding Sister had been the first to die. Several Gretchins had gotten the drop on her and stabbed her with their small knives, inflicting small wounds in multiple places which became severe when together. Unable to fight them off, the girl gave out a last prayer before detonating her weapon, taking the lives of her own as well as all of her assailants in a blazing fireball. Hospitaller remembered herself screaming in distraught like never before at the sight.

Realizing their folly, the rest of the Sisters had taken cover while finding a way out. Soon enough, the Gretchins were upon them, coming from all directions bearing crude firearms and close combat weapons and the depraved, shrilly laughter of predators coming for their hapless prey. Sister Superior and Repentia had fought them off with Power Sword and Eviscerator, respectively, while Hospitaller, not used to combat just yet, had knelt and prayed for deliverance. Sister Superior had been shouting the order to fall back when a green beam had been fired from the Gretchins' direction struck the wall behind her. The metalwork had contorted like a folded piece of paper before coming apart violently, burying Sister Superior underneath.

The last thing Hospitaller could recall before the current event was Repentia bellowing as she dived headlong into the large group of enemies, her two-handed weapon cleaving great arcs through them. Though part of her didn't want to abandon her friend and comrade to her fate, she knew there was nothing she could have done and saving Sister Superior was both possible and more important.

Much to her relief, Hospitaller finally managed to support Sister Superior out of open space and into a narrow path. Here, the confined space should prevent the Gretchins from either launching a surprise attack or overwhelm with greater numbers. This was far from escape, however. As the light of the lantern got dimmer, so was Hospitaller's hope. She did not know where to go to get out. Even if they had not fallen when the floor collapsed, the eerie corridors and pathways were indistinguishable from one another. There was no way of communicating for backup either; Flamer-wielding Sister had been the one carrying vox equipment, not that any force deployed from the convent would be able to get here in time except to exact retribution.

Exhausted, hungry, frightened, lonely and still feeling the pain from the drop, Hospitaller grew more desperate as seconds passed. She wobbled from side to side, feeling the weight dragging her down as the wounded Sister Superior couldn't keep herself up much longer. She could hear the leering voices of the Xenos at her back but could not bear herself to turn around to look.

"Just get the hell out," Sister Superior reinstated. "You… won't be able to outrun them with me along. I am just dead meat. Save yourself. Emperor protects you."

Before Hospitaller could reply, she felt an impact at her left arm just below the shoulder, followed by a sharp soreness. She whimpered and croaked, not having the strength to yelp, as a flow warm liquid ran down her arm. The shot came from a weapon of archaic design, solid slug; though it didn't go through the bones and she could still feel the use of her left arm, a chunk of flesh had been torn out and blood was oozing. The pain was excruciating, far more than what she had experienced during penitent rituals traditional to the Adeptus Sororitas. Both her and Sister Superior fell to the floor as the Gretchins caught up to them.

"Protection!" Hospitaller shouted and an energy barrier appeared between her and her pursuers. An overly eager Gretchin crashed into the shield and broke himself. The rest halted and began to pour fire into the force field even as Hospitaller desperately attempted to get up along with the now limp Sister Superior. "Emperor, please help us."

Her plea was answered as the Gretchins suddenly stopped attacking the weakened barrier. Though Hospitaller couldn't read alien faces, they seem to bear expressions resembling surprise and shock as they stared at the direction behind the two girls. Looking back, Hospitaller couldn't see anything beyond the proximity of her lantern but could make out a dot single of red light in the distance along the corridor. It was hovering, getting brighter, getting closer. A silhouette appeared, a large figure walked down the hallway, covered from head to toe in heavy armor, its footsteps resolute and brimming with intimidation.

From the shadow came a Space Marine clad in greyish Power Armor, an optic visor attached to the left eye of his helmet glowing crimson.

Their tiny brains finally working out which one was the greater threat, the Gretchins went around the power field and charged at the newly arrived Astartes. In quick motions, the Space Marines pulled out a shotgun and opened fire. The organization, combat doctrines and culture of the Space Marines remained much of a mystery to Hospitaller, yet she found it unusual that one of the finest warriors of the Imperium would be using such a low-tier weapon. The shotgun was of local design, not even Mechanicus-manufactured, ancient and almost as crude as the weapons employed by the Orks. Nevertheless, it proved surprisingly effective against clumped up enemies in enclosed space as each scattered shot reduced entire mobs of unarmored Gretchins to bloody mists.

Realizing they could not win, the Gretchins decided to cut their loss and fled just as they had when they were driven back by the Sisters of Battle earlier. The Space Marines stepped forward deliberately, pumping and firing his shotgun as he went. All but one of the Gretchins escaped. As it ran out of the shotgun's effective range, the Space Marine picked up a metal rod and threw it like a javelin. The rod hit the Gretchin at the back of its head and impaled it through the mouth.

With the area secured, the Space Marine approached the two wounded Sisters of Battle. Hospitaller tried to speak but her throat was dried and she felt sick and she coughed uncontrollably. The Space Marine produced a gallon of water and she took a big swig out of it, almost choking herself in the process. She then gave some water to Sister Superior who could barely stay conscious.

"Sir, you have our eternal gratitude," said Hospitaller, at last, clutching the wound on her arm. "Our fate would have been sealed had you not arrived. We are in your debt."

"Don't mention it," said the Space Marine. "You are not adventurers around here. Are you from the convent?"

"Yes, we are, sir," Hospitaller replied as she utilized the relative safety to stabilize herself and her comrade. Though her wound probably required more attention than this, Hospitaller simply washed it lightly before applying bandages. Her comrade's treatment was more pressing.

The metal pipe stuck into Sister Superior's chest probably didn't hit any vital organ, thank the Emperor, but she was losing a lot of blood and her pale face was an indication of that. Pulling the pipe out may lead to rupture which could be fatal, so Hospitaller did her best to stem the bleeding by disinfecting the wound and covering it up for the time being. Sister Superior was too delirious to scream out as Hospitaller sealed the wound using a las-cauterizer. The bleeding had stopped but the source of the injury was now stuck onto Sister Superior that would have to be removed at the convent where better facilities and more helping hands were available.

"And you are one of the adventurers, I presume," Hospitaller asked once she was done. It only took several minutes – she was trained for this since childhood, to cure and heal the faithful of the Emperor as they performed combat duties which she was unsuitable for.

"I am," said the Space Marine curtly. "You created that shield? Aerotech?"

"Yes, sir," Hospitaller replied, pulling out an amulet from her robe. "It is a supporting device used by our Order. It does have quite a few functions, but most are only unlocked as my rank rises."

"What else can it do?" asked the Space Marine. "Aside from creating force fields."

"The device can also release a burst of light to blind the foe at short range, allowing the wielder to escape," Hospitaller explained. "I couldn't use it earlier because…"

"You were carrying your comrade," the Space Marine finished. With a deep sigh, he introduced, "I am the Huntsman, 4th Company, Red Scar Chapter, son of Jaghantai Khan. I am known as Gretchin Slayer."

"Gretchin Slayer….," Hospitaller murmured. What a strange name for a Space Marine.

"And I require your aid," Gretchin Slayer continued. "A bit."

The girl tilted her head slightly. "A bit?"

* * *

Within ten minutes they were back at the large gathering chamber where Hospitaller's team had been ambushed. Gretchin Slayer was determined to eradicate the Xenos infestation from this wreckage once and for all – apparently, it was a quest posted by the Mechanicus at the Adventure Guild so that they could come in and plunder afterward. Helping out the man who saved her and her comrade was the least Hospitaller could do, regardless of his intentions.

"Activate it," said Gretchin Slayer.

"Right." Hospitaller complied as she pressed the activation rune and the amulet she carried glowed brilliantly like a tiny sun. Within the dark chamber, every Gretchin was drawn to it like fireflies. Many were blinded by the sudden burst after living so long in utter darkness, but they recovered and adjusted quickly. Within seconds, a throng of the creatures swarmed around the beacon eager to kill and loot and feast on the unfortunates who dared enter their domain. Their foe had given away their position in a battleground where they had the advantage, and they would make the trespassers pay dearly for that. The Gretchins did not charge headlong when it was still so bright and decided to wait for the light to die out – their prey was surrounded and wasn't going anywhere. As the light died out, there was no one there, only the now powerless amulet. It was a ruse all along, and they had fallen for it.

As the bulk of the Gretchin force gathered around the bait looking confused, Gretchin Slayer was on the move. He had determined that the Gretchins were too numerous and organized to be just a wandering mob; instead, an Ork leader must be within the vicinity. A Mekaniak was likely, given the heavy weapon they employed and the fact that inside of a superheavy wreckage was like a dream come true for that specific type of Oddboy. A direct assault against the Gretchins would be unwise, even for an Astartes, so a bit of distraction followed by decapitation of leadership was the plan.

Her role spent, Hospitaller hid behind some cover and watch as the Space Marine's scheme unfolded from a safe distance. Though a member of the militant group under the Adeptus Sororitas, Hospitaller was combat-ineffective and would probably get in the way more than lending any help. As the Gretchins were drawn to the bait, she had taken upon herself to look for her deceased comrades; though it pained her to do so, the advanced weapons they carried didn't come cheap and recovering them was necessary. She found what was left of Flamer-wielding Sister, nothing but char, nothing to salvage, nothing to burry nor be taken as a memento for her passing. A severed hand of Repentia was found still clutching to the Eviscerator still wet with alien blood, but not the rest of the body. Though Repentia had chosen martyrdom to make up for her past sin, her loss would be missed by Hospitaller.

Hospitaller was taught by the convent to love and be merciful to others just as the Emperor loves and forgives. However, with what had happened, she found herself praying Gretchin Slayer would remove all of this filth from the galaxy.

The attack began as a red flare was fired, once again lighting up the chamber. Scores of Gretchin heads looked up above with dumbfounded eyes even as death cast its hand upon them. As predicted, a Mekaniak, Ork Boy with a strange affinity towards technology, was in charge of the mob. Unwilling for close combat like most of his kind, he stood at an elevated position next to the artillery piece mounted on a tractor which was used to defeat Sister Superior. He was the first to die as Gretchin Slayer came in from behind and decapitated him cleanly with a chainsaw. The Gretchins manning the gun soon suffered the same fate.

With the threat of long-range heavy support dealt with, Gretchin Slayer showed no more hesitation in engaging the aliens head-on. Dozens of the tiny creatures didn't see it coming as Gretchin Slayer fell upon them like a tornado. Caught off-guarded and without their leader bellowing orders, the Gretchins were nevertheless convinced that fifty against one was an impossible odd even for a Space Marine. They were to be disappointed.

Hospitaller watched the battle with a sense of amazement. Though this was the first time she had seen an actual Space Marine, she had heard stories of their deeds – this display was not what she expected. Gretchin Slayer put his chainsword to his back and drew a combat knife instead. The combat knife itself was not a weapon in as much as being merely an extension of Gretchin Slayer, allowing him to reach further and striking without having to suffer the cumbersomeness of his heavy armor. Gretchin Slayers hacked down dozens of the foe with his blade, but he punched and kicked, squashed and trampled, backhanded and headbutt many more. Such was the fragility of the enemy and the toughness of the Space Marine that even slight impacts could be fatal. But Gretchin Slayer was no a brute; he wasted little strength and applied just enough force so that the enemy would be dead instantly without overkilling them whenever possible.

The battle became a massacre. The Gretchins' crude weapons were unable to cause even a dent on the Space Marine's armor. Shots bounced off even when fired at point-blank while melee weapons could never reach Gretchin Slayer without a response in the form of a ceramite-clad fist in their face or stomach. At this point, the Xenos began to panic and flee in droves. Gretchin Slayer made sure as few escaped as possible, taking out a stubber – yet another unconventional weapon – to snipe out the fleeing creatures. After a while, the chamber fell silent as the fight concluded.

Fifty-seven confirmed kills. Five confirmed escape. Gretchin Slayer observed vigilantly for any creature he might have missed before turning to Hospitaller.

"I will help you carry your ally out of here," he said. "I know the way out, but before that, there is something I have to do."

"Can I help?" asked Hospitaller.

Gretchin Slayer didn't reply and kept walking. Hospitaller walked closely behind. The Space Marine knew the way out – she had no choice but to follow him. The two of them approached what looked to be the nest, or whatever term to describe dwelling, of the greenskins. There were many mangled, half-eaten bodies there, most of which Orks but some unmistakably human. The aliens apparently had no preference between meat cooked and raw, fresh and rotten, human and their own kind. Hospitaller couldn't tell which part belonged to her fallen sister, nor did she want to know. If the machinery smell was bad, the stench of decay here was unbearable and Hospitaller covered her nose with her sleeve.

Not all of the carcasses were used for eating, however. The aliens seemed to be growing some sort of giant fungus on some of them. Hospitaller recognized them as fungus due to its texture and lack of need for sunlight – otherwise, this stuff grew like trees with many sprouting branches. What kind of evolutionary miracle, or mishap, must have happened that a fungus "tree" ten feet tall could grow from a single dead Ork. At first, Hospitaller thought it to be the aliens' equivalent to agriculture, to grow more sustainable food source – after all, even Xenos must eat and the Gretchins looked to be at the bottom of the food chain when it came to Orks.

"This is how the greenskins reproduce," said Gretchin Slayer.

"What?" Hospitaller asked, confused.

To prove his point, Gretchin Slayer snatched a branch from one of the giant fungi. Under the dimmed light of her lantern, Hospitaller saw it moving. Looking closer, she was horrified to see what appeared to be tiny arms and a small, sharp head. The thing looked like a Gretchin alright, but even smaller and its legs still attached to the large fungus until Gretchin Slayer had ripped it out.

"Is that…Gretchin infant?"

"Whatever you call it," Gretchin Slayer replied. "Devilish creatures, they are. They view themselves as below the Orks but no one else. They have strengths in numbers and accuracy and more rapid reproduction compared to the Orks, yet rarely do they ever utilize them correctly. Still, it is a grave mistake to underestimate them."

Gretchin Slayer crushed the miserable thing in his hand. "This Gargant has only been here for two months, and it takes decades for Ork spores to reach this part of the life cycle. These fungi were brought here on purpose, specifically for Gretchin breeding. The Ork Mekaniac must have been building an army of his own."

"What should we do?" asked Hospitaller, already knowing how he would answer.

"All of this must be burned to the ground," said Gretchin Slayer.

"Now?" asked Hospitaller. She recalled something about the Mechanicus posting the quest.

"The Mechnicus would send an expedition two days later," Gretchin Slayer explained. "Until then, more Gretchins would have been bred from these fungi, or they would be moved somewhere else when the Machanicus arrived. If it is not done right now, there is a chance that there would be more Gretchins to fight in the future and I will not take that chance."

With that, he set fire to the fungi growth using only a blowtorch attached to a spray can that had been filled with compressed promethium. Again, very crude, very economical, very effective. Far weaker than flamers used by the convent soldiers, the weapon did its job in torching the alien vegetation.

At this point, Hospitaller felt uneasy. Killing the Grethins to avenge the fallen and protect those that still lived was one thing, destroying unborn belonging to the enemy was another. "You said an Ork was breeding Gretchins specifically for his purpose," she spoke. "Could we do the same? Is it possible that… they could be convinced to serve the Emperor as well?"

Gretchin Slayer paused for a moment to ponder. "I have heard thoughts about that. Using aliens against aliens. Treating them as if they were more human than they actually were."

"And what is your thought on it?"

"Bullshit." Hospitaller was taken aback by his frankness. "A good Orkoid is a dead Orkoid. That applies also to Gretchins, Snotlings, Squig and fungi that have yet to grow into anything resembling an animal. That is my creed."

The two of them watched the Xenos pyre for a few more seconds before Hospitaller decided it was time to leave. The Astartes guided her way out of the Gargant and even agreed to provide assistance along the way until they made it to the convent where the Mistress and other sisters were worried sick about them. Carrying both Sister Superior and the recovered wargear was too much for a girl who was barely an adult to do alone. It would be difficult to explain what had transpired that caused the death of two members of the team; even more difficult was performing surgery on Sister Superior. Even if she survived the ordeal, her career both as an Adeptus Sororitas sub-officer as well as a warrior was over. All in all, the whole venture was a catastrophy, even if the Gretchin nest had indeed been eradicated.

Yet, as Hospitaller walked alongside Gretchin Slayer, she could not help but be fascinated about him. She had always wanted to meet and interact with a Space Marine; this was not what she was looking for, but it was cool either way.

Today was only the beginning. They would be meeting each other again, very soon.

* * *

_**Addendum: Gretchin Slayer.**_

**Stats**: M_6, WS_3+, BS_3+, S_4, T_4, W_2, A_2, Ld_8, Sv_3.

**Wargear**: Chainsword, frag grenade, krak grenade, melta bomb, combat shotgun (NOT Astartes shotgun).

**Universal Special Rules**: And They Shall Know No Fear, Combat Shield.

**Unique Special Rules**:

_Slayer of Gretchins_: Channeling years of training and experience, Gretchin Slayer does exactly what his name implies. Re-roll all failed To Hit and To Wound against Gretchins.

_Onward unto death_: Gretchin Slayer's inner vitality has surprised friends and foe alike, giving him a chance to ignore wounds from single-wound instances that would kill him on 4+.

**Faction Keywords:** Imperium, Adeptus Astartes, White Scars.

**Keywords**: Character, Infantry, Gretchin Slayer.

*Note: Gretchin Slayer is based on Space Marine Veteran but has one more Wound and Attack. He also lacks the usual Astartes weapons including boltgun and bolt pistol. A lone Adventurer would not be able to acquire much ammo for these, not that he needs them for slaying Gretchins anyway.

* * *

_**Author's Note**__: A huge disclaimer to start off. This story is not about people traveling into another universe, it is about what would happen if there is a Space Marines in Warhammer 40k and all he cares about is killing Gretchin. There is also the fact that characters in the anime and manga are named after their unit class, which the Warhammer 40k universe can provide in ample supply as it is also a tabletop game at its core._

_I originally wanted to write an Age of Sigmar story with Goblin Slayer a Stormcast Eternal who got killed by Goblins in his past life and vows revenge on them. However, it seems people aren't into the new universe while I am not into the now-dead Warhammer Fantasy as much as Age of Sigmar. So 40k would have to do._

_There are several differences in both universes, including the Sister of Battle using mainly Carapace Armor instead of the more expensive Power Armor. Also, since Gretchin Slayer is from the Red Scar Chapter (a nod to his glowing red eye), he will have the White Scar culture as well._

_Hope you enjoy. There will be more characters from Goblin Slayer showing up as Warhammer 40k version. Can you guess which Warhammer 40k unit type would they be? _


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

**Friends and friends with benefits**

_Inside a basement, a young boy and his older sister sought refuge. Instead, they would find their tomb._

"_Sis, they're coming. What do we do?"_

"_I….I…."_

_There was thumping on the door._

"_Come here, hide inside this trunk."_

"_What about you, sis?"_

_The thumping got louder._

"_It's not big enough for both of us. Besides, they already know at least one of us is hiding in here. They will turn the whole place over if they find no one."_

"_No, I don't want you to die. What am I supposed to do without you?"_

_The door began to buckle under relentless force. _

"_Little Brother, you must be brave. And be strong. I love you."_

"_No…. Big Sis…."_

_The door came down just as the girl closed down the trunk, shutting her brother inside and sparing him the violence to come._

* * *

Gretchin Slayer awoke from his restive stance – the Adeptus Astartes equivalent to what would be considered sleep by lesser humans. During this period, he would enter a comatose-like state where his body and mind would regenerate to be ready for the next battle. Of course, as any Space Marine would never let their guard down at any point, Gretchin Slayer was fully aware of his surroundings as this happened.

The memory, it still haunted him to this day. How long had it been? One hundred years or so? His sister would probably be dead by now even if she survived that onslaught that also changed her brother's destiny forever. Now that he had served his Chapter for so long, he should have let it go and moved on. Yet, the Chaplain had encouraged him not to. Gretchin Slayer remembered he had been fervent at first – now, he was not too sure. Still, it had gotten him this far; might as well continue with it.

Still wearing full Mark X Power Armor designed for Vanguard Space Marine, Gretchin Slayer exited the barn which he had rented from a farmer and modified to become his base of operation for a one-man-army. It was early morning and the landlord was loading his cart and preparing to go to work. Though not (yet) classified as an Agri-world, much of the population on this planet made a living through agriculture, a feature not uncommon among sparsely populated worlds that had only seen human settlement within a few centuries. The farm owner gave a nod of acknowledgment as he saw the Space Marine coming out.

"You came back yesterday," said the landlord. "I didn't know."

"It was late," Gretchin Slayer replied. Though he hired the barn as his makeshift armory, his tenant had been haphazard with him spending most of his non-questing time on training and patrolling the area for any potential Gretchin threat that went unnoticed. So obsessed was he with these creatures that he even constructed a crude alarm system around the farm; he claimed it was to prevent greenskins from looting his gear while he was gone, and the landlord was more than happy to have his home a little bit safer. "You and your niece were asleep. I did not wish to disturb you unnecessarily."

"No, no," the landlord gave an awkward smile. "It's fine. I'm glad to see you made it back in one piece. Well, you are a Space Marine after all. I shouldn't be too worried."

But Gretchin Slayer could sense the uneasiness in the man. He was indeed worried because….

"Oh, hello there," came a cheery voice. A girl with strong, yet voluptuous, build and short red hair popped out from the window of the house; she waved merrily at Gretchin Slayer and her uncle who both waved back wryly. It was Cow Girl, the farmer's niece and probably the only person Gretchin Slayer had had personal conversations within decades. "I saw you coming back last night. Very late, too. That's why I made another portion for breakfast. You wanna join us? I put extra effort into it."

"Yes," said Gretchin Slayer as plainly as always. "I will."

As Cow Girl got back to making breakfast, the farmer said, "She's into you. You know it?"

"I know," Gretchin Slayer replied.

Breakfast consisted of raisin bread, pork mushroom soup, and milk. The farmer was in a hurry this morning and departed, leaving Gretchin Slayer and his niece to eat together. Though as a Space Marine, Gretchin Slayer could go without sustenance for weeks, even months, ultimately, he couldn't go hungry forever. Still, he would rather well-cooked food than foraging – eating a meal prepared by someone else was one of the few worldly pleasures retained by the Space Marines.

"How is it?" asked Cow Girl.

"Good," Gretchin Slayer replied. The Red Scars drew most of its recruits from plain dwellers who had a taste for tough meat and sour milk, things that would turn the stomach of others upside down, but this stuff made by Cowgirl would have to do. "Delicious."

"Thanks," said the girl, beaming. "So, is everything going well?"

"I have been killing Gretchins," said the Space Marine.

"That's all you seem to be doing," said Cow Girl. "Kinda strange that a Space Marine would dedicate his whole life to killing those tiny xenos."

"You haven't encountered them," said Gretchin Slayer.

"I know I won't," said Cow Girl with a wide smile. "Because you are here, right? If Gretchins come to this farm, will you protect me from them?"

There was a pause. "Of course," said Gretchin Slayer, as he went back to eating. "I will kill Gretchins wherever they manifest."

The Adventurer's Guild was bustling with activities. Quests were given, exchanged and handed over while Adventurers discussed and bantered lively with one another. Guild Girl looked at them and felt overwhelmed by her work, yet there was pride building up inside her chest; she might not be part of the army fighting to enforce the Imperium's claim on this planet, but her role was essential nevertheless.

This world, situated beyond the Imperium's border and not found on most current galactic maps, had been fighting an Ork invasion for over a decade. Like sharks drawn to blood in the sea, armed men flocked here in droves. Some came to spread the Emperor's light, others hoping to grow rich over looting and pillaging; some considered going here as warrior's pilgrimage, or a trial to become earn membership in some powerful organizations, while the purposes of others remained shrouded in mystery. With so many different types of warriors coming to this world, each with their own background and motivation, getting them all to work for the same cause would have been impossible without the Adventurer's Guild.

The Adventurer's Guild was set up by a Rogue Trader who had an interest in the world's rich natural resources; to get to them, he needed to get rid of the Orks and win the locals' trust first. As the overburdened Imperium wasn't going to lend a hand in this, the Rogue Trader took the initiative to build up his own army. Many branches were set up across the planet, which drew even hundreds of Adventurers across the Imperium to here. Despite the flashy name, Adventurers were technically mercenaries. They were branded differently to bypass rules limiting how many mercenaries an individual could hire at one point, and received payment for each quest completed rather than fixed salaries; though all Adventurers must sign a contract to begin questing, they were given the choice to pick their tasks, what to do and not to do, and, thus, not strictly under the direct command of the guild. The contract clearly stated Adventurers should put their loyalty to the Imperium and Emperor above the Adventurer's Guild at any point, but if the Adventurer's Guild had any conflict with another organization which the Adventurer was also a member of (such as Space Marine Chapter), the Adventurer must remain neutral even if it meant risking being branded traitor by their erstwhile comrades for inaction and desertion.

"There you go, sir. That's twenty thousand ICs (Imperial Credits). Thank you so much for your valiant effort."

"All the current assassination quests have already been taken, sir. You could either contact one of the recipients and ask to join, or you could settle for something else."

"You brought back the stolen tank, but its turret is gone. I'm afraid that would mean a deduction from your bounties."

"Hey, no Ork head on the table. Uuuck! Please, I implore you to take it outside. You don't need that much proof that you have completed your quest."

Busy as usual, Guild Girl almost didn't notice Gretchin Slayer coming in and approaching the counter. Out of all the adventurers here, he was the most peculiar. Most Adventurers would avoid Gretchin quests like a plague; many claimed the Gretchins were beneath their level and any human with a pitchfork could handle them without relying on warriors who came all the way here for a fight, but Guild Girl suspected they didn't want to admit they sucked at it. Living up to his name, Gretchin Slayer always took quests where the Gretchins, not the Orks, were the main threat. He slew Orks from time to time, but mostly because they were in the way, and would rather avoid dealing with them whenever possible. Some believed his obsession was a genetic flaw just as the Blood Angel's Black Rage, or a strange Chapter Tactic like the Blood Raven's seizing everything not bolted down, and some even called him an aberration or a coward.

Guild Girl didn't believe what they thought. Gretchin Slayer was, as far as she could tell, perfectly fine, albeit a little bit eccentric with the way he talked to others. He took up quests, performed them, filed in his reports and collected his rewards like any other Adventurers. And killing so many Gretchins certainly contributed a lot to the war effort.

"Good morning, sir Gretchin Slayer," Guild Girl greeted the Space Marine.

"I have completed cleansing the Gargant of xenos infestation," Gretchin Slayer replied.

"Let's see here." Guild Girl typed into her computer before replying, "Right. The Mechanicus will dispatch a team to the site tomorrow. They will determine how well the task is done. Only then can we hand out your rewards."

"Very well," said Gretchin Slayer.

"I might not have been there, but I'm sure they will be satisfied with what you pulled off," said Guild Girl.

"I would like a new quest," Gretchin Slayer stated.

"Right now, sir?"

"Yes," Gretchin Slayer confirmed. "Right now."

"Gretchins again?" asked Guild Girl.

"Yes," the Space Marine replied blankly. "Gretchins. I don't find any on the billboard at the moment."

"Well, there aren't any at the moment, considering you took care of them all," said Guild Girl as she looked through the list of posted quests. There were three types of quests: green, blue and red. Green quests were posted by the Adventurer's Guild itself from the data collected from its scouts and infiltrators. The color came from the official emblem of the Rogue Trader family that owned the Guild depicting a green nightingale holding a spear in one talon and a scale on the other (the scale representing commerce, rather than justice). It went without saying that these were the most important, most strategic, and most handsomely paid, though not without many risks involved. Blue quests were the most common: local individuals and organizations put up rewards to get the greenskins off their back. The pay, difficulty and overall impact of these quests varied wildly and were disproportionate with one another – recovering a lost heirloom for a nobleman entailed a greater reward than rescuing poor peasants from an Ork slave camp. Red quests included anything not related to combat, from treating the wounded and sickly to clearing roads to improving agricultural yield with off-world methods.

The colors were rather misleading, More than one Adventurer made the mistake thinking they corresponded to difficulties. More than one paid the price.

"I see," said Gretchin Slayer. Despite his perpetually hiding his face behind a helmet, Guild Girl could sense a hint of disappointment within him, as if killing Gretchin was all he was about. "There is none at all?"

He took the bait, Guild Girl thought mischievously. It was a ruse all along, a masterful feint. She had intentionally misled him in order to gauge a reaction out of him at being denied. "Oh, wait a minute I think I found one," she said.

"You did?" asked Gretchin Slayer.

"Yes," said Guild Girl happily. "It's…."

A raspy voice cut in before she could finish, "Relay that one, sweetie." Both turned towards a red-haired man in his early twenties, a Tempestus Scion, as he walked up to them. The Scion wore blue carapace armor and carried a hot-shot volley gun, the icon of a bear displayed proudly on his chest plate. "We need you on this, Space Marine-man."

"Gretchins?" asked the Space Marine.

"You are one tall sack of shit, you know that?" said Volley-gun Scion. "But, yes, it's those little devils."

"Then I accept," said Gretchin Slayer, oblivious or ignoring the insult.

"Great," Volley-gun Scion smirked. "You're the one who kills them consistently. Listen, our mate with the tool to deal with them is currently not available due to a very bad case of grox-pox, so we thought you would make an excellent substitute. I'm glad you could make it."

Much to Guild Girl's disappointment, Gretchin Slayer became fixated to this man's offering and almost completely ignored her. It took her a full week to come with this trick to get his attention and now her effort was all but ruined. That one of these wet-nosed juvies who even called her "sweetie" was responsible for it was outrageous. The Tempestus Scion Adventurers on this planet came from a different mold than what she expected - sociable, boisterous, party-loving and full of bad languages, yet no less efficient and ruthless in combat. Normally she would advise Adventurers to consider carefully when forming an alliance with others they just met, but the Tempestus Scions had a reputation for themselves.

Begrudgingly, Guild Girl open the file for the quest and added Gretchin Slayer to the list of Adventurers currently on it. As there would be two more Tempestus Scions participating in the operation, Volley-gun Scion offered Gretchin Slayer a quarter of the bounty in advance, which the Space Marine immediately accepted before Guild Girl could suggest a different method of reward-sharing based on task and merit. As she had observed from time to time, the Tempestus Scions had a methodological approach to all aspects of Adventuring; they always preferred equal distribution of the bounty regardless of who did what and always made sure all agreements related to the bounty was made before the mission.

"How many?" Gretchin Slayer asked.

"About thirty of them."

"Where?"

"At an observation tower about sixty kilometers from here."

"The Gretchins, do they have firearms?"

"Like hell do we care what the Gretchins are using."

"Vehicles? Walkers? Artilleries?"

"Not as far as we can see."

"Any Runtherd?"

"No."

"Orks?"

"Yes."

"I will make preparations," said Gretchin Slayer. "When do we depart?"

"Meet us at the grav-train station in three hours and twenty-seven minutes," Volley-gun Scion explained. He was slightly amused that the Space Marine only spared a single question about the Orks, and that was to confirm whether they were there or not, while he and his team had considered them the primary threat all along. All the more reason to have Gretchin Slayer along, he guessed. "Don't be late. It will take us to the frontline. Then it is a two-hour walk."

"I will rendezvous," stated Gretchin Slayer.

"Great, then I guess I'll be seeing you." The Tempestus Scion made a wink towards Guild Girl and then left.

"Good luck on it," said Guild Girl, defeated.

"I am sorry," said Gretchin Slayer. Guild Girl let out an inaudible curse; now he was reading her expression. It wasn't supposed to end up like this.

"No, don't worry," she said quickly. "It's not a big deal. Those stormtroopers need you more than I do." It was a terrible response, completely out of her usually calm character, and she immediately found herself hoping that Gretchin Slayer wouldn't inquire as to what she needed him for.

"Alright," said Gretchin Slayer. "I shall go and prepare."

As he was about to leave, Guild Girl called out to him, "Sir Gretchin Slayer!" It was an impulse, almost as if some instinct within her was compelling her to do so. She didn't mean it but she had no choice but to follow it through, lest she embarrassed herself even more than she already did.

"What is it?" Gretchin Slayer asked.

"Good luck," said Guild Girl, taking a deep breath. Saying those two simple words had gotten a lot of air out of her than normal.

Gretchin Slayer's response couldn't have been more anticlimactic, "Thanks."

* * *

As the sun began to go down behind the mountains, the three Tempestus Scions began to make their move towards the Ork-captured observation tower. The greenskins didn't like the original bland architecture and during their occupation had put great efforts into renovating it. Banners were strung up, fetishes and skulls put on display, spikes protruding everywhere, and a crude painting of an Orkish skull adorning the only entrance to the tower on top of the existing Imperial Aquila motif. The previous occupant had also received a makeover, now stripped to his underwear, strapped to the nearby direction sign, and re-purposed as a punching bag. The fellow was battered and bruised but the Orks didn't feel like ending his life just yet; he could still be salvaged.

"Twelve Orks in total," Sharpshooter remarked. She was the only female in the team and armed with a longlas capable of punching holes into faces from afar. "With a Space Marine on our side, this shouldn't be too hard."

"And the Gretchins?" asked Halberdier. While most Astra Militarum personnel preferred to stay out of close combat as much as possible, this man had made a power halberd his weapon of choice. Out of all the Scions, he was most worried about the Gretchins, and for a good reason. He was an anti-duelist, able to dispatch one enemy at a time with carefully planned out sequences of blows, but taking on an entire horde of opponents, however weak they were, was not his thing. "So many of the little fuckers."

The Orks and their minions were in the process of turning this scouting post into their base of operation as they fortified their position with more metal sheets and piled up weapons and munitions. For an alien race, the Orks were as industrious as they were destructive.

"Don't worry, the Space Marine will handle them, exclusively," said Volley-gun Scion. "I saw his gear. He won't be much useful against these Orks, though."

"What kind of Space Marine would kill only Gretchins?" said Sharpshooter skeptically.

"Is there a flaw in the geneseed?" Halberdier Scion wondered. "I thought the Primaris were immune to such."

Volley-gun Scion shrugged at his comrades' disbelief. "Who cares? The dude's good at it, and he's going to keep those things off our back while we complete the mission, all for the price of one share. Easy money."

"Fair enough," said Sharpshooter. "Never thought hiring an Astartes would be so easy, let alone having him agree to our standard of equal distribution of rewards. I have seen plenty of Space Marines in my life. They are always so full of themselves, always thinking they are above others and that they deserve more for just bearing the title."

"Not much different from how the Guards view us," Volley-gun Scion snickered. "Glory boys, that's what they like to call."

"So, what are we still doing here?" asked Halberdier Scion impatiently. "Shouldn't we commence the attack already? We already planned and drilled this one out, didn't we? And what the hell is this Gretchin Slayer doing? In fact, where is he?"

"Relax," Volley-gun Scion assured. "There is a change of plan."

"What change of plan?" asked Sharpshooter suspiciously.

"The Space Marine will initiate," Volley-gun Scion elaborated. "That will draw the Orks' attention. Then we move in and it's easy money."

"I thought the Space Marine would only take care of the Gretchins," said Sharpshooter.

"He does," said Volley-gun Scion, grinning. "But they don't know."

To the other side of the battlement, Gretchin Slayer observed the enemy in the battlement and its surroundings. A dozen or so Orks, plus thirty-two Gretchins. As per the agreement, the former would be dealt with by his Tempestus Scion allies, which left him to take care of the latter. The Gretchins were armed with mostly melee weapons – crude knives and clubs, plus a few blunderbusses and pistols here and there. Nothing he could not handle, as long as his allies lived up to their end of the bargain and keep the Orks from his back.

Gretchin Slayer had picked up a stubber for this quest. It was more effective at dealing with this particular number of Gretchins at close to mid-range compared to a boltgun or a shotgun. Yesterday he had allowed quite a few Gretchins to escape justice due to the environment as well as the urgency to bring the Sisters of Battle back to safety; today he would make no excuse for letting a single creature live. For melee weapons, Gretchin Slayer carried a combat knife with his chainsword strapped onto his back – the chainsword was to be used in case of emergency, as in when he had to combat actual Orks instead of just the Gretchins.

As a red flare flew to the sky signaling the commencement of the attack, Gretchin Slayer quickly sprang into action. His stubber was the first to rang and six of the Gretchins dropped without knowing what hit them.

_Twenty-six left._

"Oi! We'z unda attack!"

"Humie! Dere'z a humie 'ere!"

"Spess Merheen! Get 'im"

The Orks' response was immediate. Within seconds, not just the Gretchin but every Ork in the vicinity was zeroing on Gretchin Slayer, much to his astonishment. His allies were supposed to provide support, yet they had laid back for some reason. Luckily for him, however, the Orks lacked proper ranged weapons and, because most of them were stationed on the other side of the Gretchins, it would take them a while to run around and charge at him.

Gretchin Slayer thought about withdrawing when a burst of laser fire punched through one of the charging Orks, throwing him into the battlement and leaving an unsightly stain on it as his body slid down. In the opposite direction, the Tempestus Scions were joining the fight at last. Gretchin Slayer thought it was a tactically sound maneuver – the dimwitted greenskins would direct all of their attention to the first threat they see, which made them unprepared for a flanking attack. There was one problem for Gretchin Slayer, however. Though most of the Orks were turning towards the Tempestus Scions who were closer, a couple of them were still heading towards him. He did not want to fight them. Period.

The Gretchins tried to swarm the Space Marines from all sides but were swatted down like flies. The combat knife had not been sharpened for a while and could barely fit for usage in the kitchen at this point, but the strength that wielded it was tremendous. Just as before, the knife's sole purpose was to extend the range of melee attacks and increase dexterity, functioning as if an additional joint to the Space Marine's arm. Small greenskins were hacked apart. Another burst from the stubber knocked down another four from the battlement. A Gretchin popped like a tomato under his ceramite greave.

_Fifteen left._

The first of the Ork got to Gretchin Slayer who had no other option than to fight him head-on. The Ork struck first. Dodging the incoming axe by bending himself backward just enough that the swing missed him by an inch, Gretchin Slayer straightened up as soon as the blow passed by, drew his chainsword from his back and cleaved the attacking creature in half at the midriff.

The Orks attacking the Tempestus Scions didn't fare much better. Burst after burst of hotshot las cut down the Orks as they advanced out in the open. Halberdier skewered a charging alien, stopping the surprised creature in its track. He pushed it back, wounding and weakening it, before pulling out the weapon and using the sharp edge on the side shaped like a cleaver to slice its head right off in quick successive motions. Though barely half the size on an Ork, Halberdier did not hesitate as he shoved his way into the thick of the enemy, the many hours every day spent on perfecting a single deadly maneuver giving him all the reassurance he needed against these foul beasts. The combo was far from creative, but it proved effective and Halberdier dropped another three aliens with ease simply by repeating the same sequence over and over. Against a competent opponent with a further reach than their arms plus axes could achieve, the Orks were as helpless as sheep pounced on by wolves. The aliens relied too heavily on the momentum of the furious charge. Their belief that attack was the best defense – after all, a dead human couldn't pose any threat to them – was their downfall.

And they were extremely reluctant to learn from anything.

Another reason why Gretchins posed a different type of threat to Orks and had to be dealt with separately, though Gretchin Slayer.

An Ork Lootah armed with a heavy machine gun took up a position upon the tower and set up a firing arc at the Tempestus Scions. His head exploded in a bloody mist before he could fire a single shot. Sharpshooter let out a giggle as she searched for a new target.

Gretchin Slayer took down another small greenskin with his knife and trampled over two more. A volley of bullets from his stubber caused an iron-studded banner to come down, crushing four.

_Eight left. _

Gretchin Slayer came face to face with the Ork Nob, much to his annoyance. The Tempestus Scions were supposed to deal with this while he did his part of the job. The Gretchins would now have time to get away.

"Back off, greenskin," Gretchin Slayer admonished.

"Hah, I'll back off once ya properly dead," the Nob replied, its voice loud and raucous. The creature stood a head taller than Gretchin Slayer and twice as wide. While the Orks carried only crude axes and armor, the Nob had been better prepared with a Power Klaw and heavy armor.

The two of them clashed in fiery combat. The Ork's Power Klaw came down, time and time again, yet Gretchin Slayer was always ahead of it and gone a split second before the destructive contraption could do him any harm. Blocking such powerful weapon with only a chainsword was foolish and Gretchin Slayer dared no strike back – it would take more than one swing with a chainsword to kill this creature and, in doing so, he would expose himself for retaliation. A single landing blow from that Power Klaw was more than enough to end him.

As the Nob pushed Gretchin Slayer back to a corner, his momentum suddenly stopped and he cried out in pain and anger as a Power Halberd was stabbed into its back. The Nob swung his Klaw around but it flew overhead of the Tempestion Scion; apparently, he was expecting the sneaky opponent to be another Space Marine. Halberdier showed no hesitation as he pulled out the weapon and stabbed the creature again, this time in the chest, much to the Ork's amazed chagrin. A hotshot las bolt blew off the upper left quarter of the Nob's skull, courtesy of Sharpshooter. Finally, Halberdier severed the Ork's lower jaw, killing him once and for all.

"You are alright, big guy?" asked Halberdier.

"Not a single scratch," Gretchin Slayer replied.

All the Orks had been accounted for. As for the Gretchins…

_Still eight left. Unacceptable._

"I have contacted the PDF," announced Volley-gun Scion as he took a full swig from his canteen. "It will take them an hour to get here to take over. Our job here is over."

"Your job might be over," said Gretchin Slayer. "Mine is not. Some of the Gretchins have fled. I will hunt them down and bring them to justice."

"Are you sure?" asked Sharpshooter. Unlike her sniggering companions, she showed genuine concern. "I mean, it's part of your Space Marine Chapter culture, so I won't stop you. But is it really necessary? They are just Gretchins, you know?" The intention to ensure no enemy of men escape the Emperor's justice, even if they had to be hunted to the end of the galaxy and beyond, was an uplifting one for His faithful, and had been used as the basis for the existence of many Imperial organizations across the star. The idea that it applied to Gretchin as well, however, sounded a bit ludicrous.

"What harm can a few Gretchins do?" asked Volley-gun Scion jokingly. "Stealing people's left shoes?"

"You have not seen it," Gretchin Slayer replied. "But I have. And I would not let it happen again."

"I only see a storm in a teacup," said Halberdier.

"All of us have our duty to protect the Imperium, don't we?" Gretchin Slayer insisted. "This is my version of it."

"Fine, do whatever you want," said Volley-gun Scion, realizing it was futile to argue. "We are leaving in an hour or so, as soon as local force arrives here. If you won't come back by then, you go back alone."

"So be it," said Gretchin Slayer.

"Here, take this." Volley-gun Scion handed Gretchin Slayer the train ticket. Out in this frontier world, even Space Marines were not exempt from fees when using public services. Being a super warrior designed to be humanity's savior didn't really ring a lot of bells around here and barely anyone on this planet looked upon them with either awe or fascination – Space Marines might be top of the bunch, but they were still part of the bunch. A single Space Marine cannot possibly take on a group of well-armed Adventurers, so if the former deserved no privilege, then why should the latter?

"Thank you," said Gretchin Slayer. "I will finish the Hunt."

"Good luck," said Sharpshooter. Gretchin Slayer remembered hearing that from someone else earlier.

"Thank you," the Space Marine replied. Truly he was not a man of great vocabulary.

As Gretchin Slayer left, the Scions wondered what they had been missing, as if they had gone through the main course and desert without touching on the appetizer. Truly there was something from previous observations that indicated their job, much like Gretchin Slayer, was not over yet, but, scratching their brain out as they might, the trio couldn't remember what it was. Until...

"Hey guys," came a sarcastic voice from above. "Lovely view from up here. And a fine showing from you as well. But, I would be very grateful if you could just GET ME THE HELL DOWN!"

"Oh, him," the three Scions said in unison. There was the strung up soldier as well. Then they also realized the quest never stated any bonus/deduction for saving/leaving high and dry the previous garrison. Getting him down would require a lot of effort, plus a few more ropes which the Scions lacked and couldn't salvage from the surrounding area. In the end, the Scions let the bitching and wailing soldier hang until reinforcement arrived.

* * *

Gretchin Slayer returned to the guild in the afternoon the next day, looking even more scruffy than usual. He made a beeline towards Guild Girl who greeted him cheerily as always.

"You're back," she said. "The Scions filed in their report yesterday. I was a bit worried when you weren't with them." In retrospective, she shouldn't have. Gretchin Slayer had been questing mostly alone for quite a while now – it wouldn't have been a surprise if they left him to his own device or vice versa.

"I ensured the destruction of the Gretchins," said Gretchin Slayer plainly.

"And I thank you for that," said Guild Girl with a wide smile. "The Mechanicus have also confirmed the Gargant clear of xenos infestation. I will file these in and be back with your reward. Just a moment. In the meantime, there is someone who wishes to see you."

"Another Gretchin quest?" asked Gretchin Slayer.

"Geez, does he only care about Gretchins?" Guild Girl thought dismissively. "You can ask her yourself," she said, pointing to a young woman dressed in blue and white cleric robe sitting quietly on the bench. The girl carried a gold-colored staff with several rings attached to its top as well as a glowing arcane device constantly emitting an aura warm to the touch. She stood up as she saw Gretchin Slayer approach.

"Hello again, sir," she said, bowing her head. Gretchin Slayer recognized her as the Hospitaller whom he saved along with her companion the other day. "I would like to thank you again for saving the life of myself and of my sister. We are both eternally in your debt."

"I am flattered," said Gretchin Slayer.

Hospitaller took a deep breath as she looked straight into Gretchin Slayer's visor and said, "I have already signed up to become an Adventurer. My talents and equipment have been deemed adequate by the guild. I would like to be your companion."

Gretchin Slayer was taken back for a moment. Though he had occasionally found an ally on the field of battle, such as those Tempestus Scions the day before, no one had ever asked him for a lasting fellowship. He was better as the lone wolf even back when he was with his Chapter, which partly explained why he left on this Hunt. He came to this planet alone and had waged a war against his most hated foe solo ever since, receiving whatever help (or hindrance) he could find but never asked for any.

One on hand, he might be more effective when not pulled down by someone else who did not fit into his combat tactics. On the other, he had seen what Hospitaller can do and her abilities could prove highly useful.

"You know how to treat an Astartes?" asked Gretchin Slayer.

"I have read about it," said Hospitaller. "I will learn it in time. Just give me a chance."

"You do this to repay the debt?"

"Not really."

"Then why do you wish to be my companion."

"I find you quite interesting," Hospitaller explained. "I heard stories about Space Marines before and you don't seem like them. Also, when I learned that you have been fighting alone for so long, I couldn't help it but feel you deserve something more. Please, let me help you."

Some people had overheard their conversation. The reaction was a mixture of surprise and pity towards the girl who seemed to have no idea whom she was dealing with and what she was getting herself into. And they might be correct to have those feelings - Gretchin Slayer himself felt the same towards this girl in front of him who bravely stared him in the eyes as she spoke very clearly.

With a sigh, Gretchin Slayer replied, "I accept your offer."

"I won't let you down," said Hospitaller happily. She still had much to learn, and learn she must. In the meantime, Gretchin Slayer would have to modify his tactics for the first time after years doing the same things just because they were already the optimal approach. Another party member meant the possibility of glory from achieving what he couldn't alone, and also the depression from losing something he should not have had in the first place. It was too soon to tell.

"First thing first," said Gretchin Slayer. "You are going to need better armor."

* * *

_**Author's note: **Quite a few characters will be named after their unit type and weapon. The concept of a Rogue Trader hiring an entire army of mercenaries of different backgrounds is not new to Warhammer 40k (Blackstone Fortress is a good example of that), but the concept of Goblin Slayer seems to fit this very well. Other characters from the anime/manga/LN will make an appearance as well. Can you guess what 40k incarnation will they take?_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

**Why we fight**

There was always a sense of urgency Inside the Adventurer's Guild. Warriors and clerics, thieves and scoundrels, mercenaries and freelancers, all of them now relied on the finance provided by the Adventurer's Guild now that they had halted or severed ties with whatever organizations they once served. After spending what felt like a lifetime in thankless service to one of the Imperium's branches, these so-called Adventurers abandoned their previous post to flock to this world in hope of a better conflict where they would be more adequately rewarded for their trouble. Out here, nothing was free, privileges meant nothing, and the status they held previously as heroes or princes were inconsequential; the Guild was the most sacred place for the Adventurers as if it were Holy Temple of Terra itself. Without the Guild, they would not have been here in the first place.

Quests were constantly handed out, turned in, discussed, complained and bargained as the Adventurers figured out the best way to use their talent to complete them, as well as how to make the most out of these given quests. Rewards weren't always fixed, and there were always legitimate ways for an Adventurer to enhance their earnings.

"Protecting an entire village from a mob of giant Squig riders? Only two-thousand credits? No way that's going to be worth it."

"What about Squig meat?"

"My stomach has no room for unholy alien flesh, thank you."

"I mean we can sell it."

"Then we have to cut it, preserve it, carry it back, and pay taxes. Selling the whole thing to local butchers won't get us much."

"Hey, wait. There is also defending the private shack of a local noble just twenty kilometers away from Ork riders. I presume they are the same. Five-thousand credits."

"Well, isn't that decent? Let's take them both and go. I haven't had a serious quest for two weeks now."

Guild Girl sighed heavily. The questing system was far from perfect. Blue quests, posted by the locals with little military experience and an even poorer understanding of the Orks, were the most common, yet most unreliable. Miscommunications, mismeasurements, mistranslations of unusual local tongues, over and underestimations, overlapping, and even outright frauds had all happened before. Unlike green quests, blue ones didn't receive much in terms of information procession by the Guild and were posted on the billboard as they were. There simply weren't enough resources for that. Besides, the lack of any effort to update these quests meant they were best completed as soon as possible – a quest posted one week ago might not correctly reflect the actual situation today.

More often than what Guild Girl would have liked, Adventurers would set off to fight against enemies that did not exist, enemies that already had been vanquished by local defense forces or other Adventurers, enemies that did not fit the description of the quest (war buggies instead of bikers), or enemies that were too powerful to overcome. All of these resulted in complaints (if the Adventurers made it back alive), and the Guild's only policy was to compensate for it with an apology; these Adventurers had come a long way and would never settle for anything. Guild Girl had had to apologize eleven times in the past five days.

"Wanna go to the mountain to fight some bandits?"

"Bandits? As if the Orks weren't bad enough, now we have to deal with rogue humans as well?"

"They're not humans, I'm telling you. They're Genestealer Cultists."

"Yeah, right. I'm not in for climbing, though."

"Then how about this one for cleaning the sewers in the town nearby?"

"What the hell is in there that needs cleaning?"

"Genestealer Cultists, maybe."

"Oh, fuck off with your Genestealer Cult conspiracy groxshit."

Despite all the hiccups, things were going as smoothly as Guild Girl could have hoped for. Despite being off-world, Lord Rogue Trader – the man behind all of this - was closing watching the whole operation. He had recently announced the venture to be a success, and she was very proud of herself for being part of it.

And, of course, there was no such thing as Genestealer Cultists on this planet. At least, there had been no sightings of them.

"Well you look at that, the Space Marine who only takes Gretchin-killing quests. Who's the girl with him?"

"I haven't seen her around. Must be new here. Could she be his companion?"

"Doesn't look like a Chapter's serf to me."

"She looks to be local. I saw a monastery around here. Maybe she's from there."

"Poor girl. I can only imagine what threat he used to force her into this."

"That's Space Marines for you. They do what they want, take what they want, slay who they want, and only the Emperor can judge them, or so they say."

Gretchin Slayer and Hospitaller drew a fair amount of attraction from the rest of the Adventurers, though not in a good way. Hospitaller was actually blushing quite a bit from all the eyes staring at her; for her to be the focal point of attention, more likely that something bad rather than good had happened involving her, such as the time she wet-washed the suit of the bishop which instructed to dry-wash only, or the incident with her sisters while clearing out xenos from an abandoned Titan three days ago. The comments made about her being with Gretchin Slayer clearly didn't help.

That she was wearing chainmail under her robe made it even worse. It was Gretchin Slayer's idea which she vehemently refused at first, believing the power of her faith in the Emperor which could be channeled into the arcane device in her staff was enough protection she needed. Then, he had gone on about what kind of horrific injuries she could suffer from based on what kind of weapon being used, where on the body she was hit, and whether the user was an Ork or a Gretchin. The awfully gory and descriptive scenarios laid out by Gretchin Slayer eventually caused her to change her mind.

Already, she was having second thoughts about her decision to go on an adventure with this man.

"Sir Gretchin Slayer, welcome back," said Guild Girl, smiling. That Gretchin Slayer was with another female rubbed her off a bit, but she took comfort in the knowledge that he would not be alone when questing anymore. Gretchin Slayer had joined others on quests before but never fit in and such alliance was usually broken up even before any reward was collected. He moved at a different pace, always one step ahead or one step behind, and his primary focus to kill Gretchins more abused by others to their own benefits than respected.

"The Gretchin quest four days ago," he said. "Is it still available?"

He had thought about getting to do it right after Hospitaller joined his party, but had decided to postpone her first adventure until he could be more comfortable working with her and vice versa. During the next day, he had tested out her abilities so far (she apparently could perform two Acts of Faith at the moment, using the amulet as a conduit) and caught her up to the latest findings in Gretchin biology, physiology, culture, and, of course, military. It was intensive training, for he lacked both time and patience for this kind of stuff; there was a war going on, after all, and every day he was not questing meant Gretchins could ruin more lives.

Thankfully, Hospitaller seemed quite adept in scholarly work, plus she was independent – perks of being raised as an orphan in an Ecclesiarches institution. She learned fast and could be made to recite certain data, follow certain protocols, and perform certain maneuvers in the span of hours while most others would take days. The day was not an easy one for both of them, resembling the Astartes own training regime. It started before the sun rose and ended when it was so dark outside Gretchin Slayer had to walk Hospitaller back to her convent (she was old enough to become an Adventurer, yet still too young to travel so late alone at night), with Cow Girl helpfully and eagerly providing all three meals plus snacks for Hospitaller. As the day passed, Gretchin Slayer thought she had exceeded his expectations and ready for her first adventure with him.

"No, I'm afraid not," said Guild Girl. "A group took it just after you left with the Scions."

"Is there any other I can take?" Gretchin Slayer continued.

Guild Girl shook her head. "Not at the moment," she frowned. "Though I fear something might have gone awry with the quest you mentioned."

"How so?" asked Gretchin Slayer intently.

"It's been four days and local reports indicate the issue has not been dealt with," said Guild Girl. Blue quests were posted by the locals and had to be verified by them before any reward given out; another reason why this type of quests was so unreliable was that its substantiation could take days, even weeks, and there had been instances where the original quest giver was unavailable, prompting the Guild had to step in. Few things here were more frustrating for an Adventurer than not getting paid after doing their assigned job. "We have yet to be able to contact the group that took up the quest yet."

"Who took the quest?" asked Gretchin Slayer. "Are they experienced?"

"Four local-based Adventurers," said Guild Girl. The Adventurer's Guild had accepted a fair number of locals into their ever-growing list of quest-takers, ranging from country boys who appeared fresh from the farm with no combat experience only to put a las-lock shot squarely between an Ork's eyes from one hundred meters away, to hardened veteran members of the Planetary Defense Forces. For all the Guild's standards in recruiting, the pattern was anything but clear: local Adventurers were generally weaker, slower, less organized, less well-armed, less mechanically augmented, less likely to employ sophisticated tactics, and easier to frighten off than the grizzled warriors who had traveled here looking for a fight. They did, however, showed more devotion to the task and less opportunism, since this was their planet, after all. They were a scruffy, yet still reliable, bunch.

"Do you assume the worst?" asked Gretchin Slayer plainly.

Guild Girl pondered for a moment. As an employee of the Guild, sending Adventurers to death or glory was her everyday work, as it was the work of any Imperial Commander who led a crusade across the stars. Regardless of the outcome of an adventure, her job was to make sure _attempts _were being made. In short, she couldn't be bothered to care about the welfare of these Adventurers, no matter how much she wished them to be safe and succeed. "Yes," she answered at length. "I believe something is wrong."

"Very well," said Gretchin Slayer. "I will take up the quest."

"We cannot communicate with them at the moment," said Guild Girl, disappointed. "There is also no confirmation yet that they are no longer fit, or even alive, to complete the quest, so we are just guessing around here. I cannot change the file without permission. It goes against the rules of the Guild. I suggest you wait a little longer while we sort it out." Another deficiency within the Guild's operation was that if a quest ended in the total annihilation of the Adventurer group, then it would likely go unreported, which impeded the process of finding a substitute team. Unless a team could be taken off a quest, either on their own volition or according to the Guild's dictation, another who had not made an agreement with them would not be entitled for any payment even if theirs was the majority or even the entirety of the effort spent in completing the quest in the first place.

"Don't worry," Gretchin Slayer assured. "Keep the file as it is. If I find the original group and they are still alive, I will relent my rewards. Otherwise, I will bring back their tags."

"Wait, you are willing to go unpaid?" asked Guild Girl. He could still collect the rewards on behalf of the deceased by recovering their Adventurer tags, but his willingness to do this potentially without being paid still did not sit right to her. Then again, it was Guild Girl who had this hunch that things had gone badly, and Gretchin Slayer was only basing his actions on the uncertainty of the situation.

"Better that than let the Gretchins have their way," Gretchin Slayer replied. "Besides, if my calculations are correct, my pocket won't be empty after today." Guild Girl wasn't sure if he was being snide or not, but he was probably expecting the Gretchins to have completely slaughtered the previous group by now.

"Well, no point in stopping you," Guild Girl conceded.

"There is!" shouted black armored Space Marine who fiercely badged into the conversation like a locomotive rushing through. "You can't continue doing this, cousin."

"Ah, my apology," pardoned Guild Girl, trying her best to hide away her own indignation at such rudeness displayed by an Adventurer. "Are you two related?"

"It's a figurative term," Gretchin Slayer explained. "The Emperor created the Primarchs and the Primarchs created the Space Marines. All Space Marines from the same Legion refer to each other as _brothers_, which also applied to Successor Chapters, so Space Marines from different Legions would be like _cousins_ to one another. I am from White Scars, he from Imperial Fist."

"We might not be related by blood or gene," Black Templar Crusader snapped. "But we are both Adeptus Astartes. There are more similarities between you and me than us with anyone around here. That is why I cannot let you continue down this path of self-destruction."

Black Templar Crusader was a fearsome sight to behold. Standing a head taller than Gretchin Slayer, he emitted an aura of awesomeness that would have seemed all-consuming but for the fact that most Adventurers here had seen enough actions in their life to even care for such display of grandeur. His armor was clean and his gears well-polished. If not for the parchments attached to his shoulder by official Black Templar seals, each handwritten and telling the story of one of his many glorious campaigns, some might mistake the suit for being new and the warrior inside untested. Unlike Gretchin Slayer, Black Templar Crusader shunted the protection offered by a helmet on the ground that it gave him the impression of being weak and vulnerable without every single part of his body inside ceramite. He had tout face with square jaws and tidy black hair on top, several scars running across his cheeks and forehead which he displayed with pride.

Black Templar Crusade's appearance was of a warrior who had stared at untold horrors without ever backing down, a warrior willing to go any length and make any sacrifice for the good of the Imperium, the stuff of legends made real. Moreover, it also spoke of great pride.

A bit too much pride, as Gretchin Slayer noted.

"I do not understand your point," Gretchin Slayer countered. "Whatever I do, I always plan ahead. I don't expect to meet my maker any time soon."

"And that is the problem," Black Templar Crusader bawled. "You have been killing nothing but these puny Gretchins the whole time. While I admire your zeal in destroying the xenos, I see a waste of potential. What is the point of all the meticulous selection, all the rigorous training we've gone through if you are not willing to take on a foe that does pose the threat of killing you?"

"You think Gretchins don't pose that kind of threat?" Gretchin Slayer retorted.

"A farmer with a pitchfork is more of a threat than a Gretchin," Black Templar Crusader hissed. "You have slain them time and time again. Can't you see the lack of challenge in it? Can't you see it is redundant, given the Guild actively advertises Gretchin quests for those locals who want a piece of the action but are too weak to fight Orks? A Space Marine doing this kind of work is like killing a cockroach with a boulder. I have seen you in action and read your reports. You are intelligent, talented, brave, with an excellent understanding of both weapons and xenology, exactly what a Space Marine should be, even more so than I am. But you are not applying those qualities where it matters."

"That is not what I see," said Gretchin Slayer calmly. "Orks are obviously more dangerous, but they are obvious. The threat from Gretchins, on the other hand, is difficult to quantify. But know that I have seen it and I fully understand what they are capable of. You say a lot of good things around me, but that could apply to quite a few people around here." When stating this, he recalled how Halberdier had been able to effortlessly dispatch Ork after Ork with his two-hit combo, or how the three Scions, in general, had managed to defeat an enemy four times their numbers without breaking even a sweat. He also recalled their hesitance when it came to Gretchins. "And what if they all thought like you that slaying Gretchins is beneath them, or they simply couldn't because doing so was never part of their standard training regime? I don't see anything in the Codex Astartes that disapproves of such maneuver, not that you are reading it."

"It is pointless arguing with you," exclaimed Black Templar Crusader, exasperated. "Here is the thing. I need your help."

"Gretchins?" asked Gretchin Slayer expectantly.

"No, you rock-headed peon." Black Templar Crusader resisted the urge to scream. "The Guild has confirmed the presence of a high-ranking Ork within the vicinity. A Nob from the Bluddrock Clan. Killing him would cripple the Orks' leadership and deal a severe blow to their war effort in this province, which I am keen to see happening. My team has had the honor of bringing justice to this foul monster. Your assistance is welcomed."

"Welcomed," Gretchin Slayer echoed. "Not needed. I am sorry but there is a more pressing matter I should devote myself to. If your wording is incorrect and you need me instead, would it be possible to delay it for one day?"

"We are going tonight, with or without you," Black Templar Crusader replied sternly.

"Then without me it is," said Goblin Slayer.

"You call yourself a Space Marine?" belched Black Templar Crusade, his rage barely contained. "While pursuing such juvenile, selfish desire? If the Emperor were here, if Jaghantai Khan were here, how would they react?"

"I will not tolerate such criticism," Gretchin Slayer admonished sharply. "I know exactly why we are having this conversation. I saw what happened to you on that train two days ago."

"Wait, how did you…." Black Templar Crusader stuttered with a whitening face as if drained of blood. "So, you figured it out."

"Yes," said Gretchin Slayer. He knew why Black Templar Crusade was so fervent about Gretchin Slayer joining him on this quest, why having both Space Marines on this together meant so much for him. On that train, which he took after he had hunted down the remaining Gretchins fleeing from the observation tower using the ticket given by Volley-gun Scion, he had seen Black Templar Crusade arguing with the collector about tickets, which he seemingly had lost at some point. After a prolonged argument with the Space Marine futilely pointing out it was his right to requisition public transportation as a member of the Imperial Adept or that his contribution to the war here surely earned him enough merit to travel by train without tickets. In the end, he was asked to leave at the next stop, much to his own humiliation and the amusement of his teammates.

No matter how primitive these trains were in a space-faring Imperium, not even Space Marines could hitch a ride without tickets.

"These people here," said Black Templar Crusader at a whispering tone, "they have no idea what the Adeptus Astartes stand for. They don't know the divine purpose that shaped us, our connection to the Emperor, the harsh process that created us, or the glories we have seen, and they don't seem to care either. It alienates me, if I am, to be honest, and I intend to change that perception. To do that, I need your help. Together, we can show them what it means to be a Space Marine."

"It doesn't matter if they don't know," said Gretchin Slayer frankly. "Ignorance is sometimes bliss. You are just under the false impression that we, by virtue of being Space Marines, deserve more than what we get around here. But my concept of what it means to be a Space Marine isn't so full of grandeur like yours. I am perfectly fine with the ways things are around here."

"Then so be it," Black Templar Crusader sighed and retreated, joining the rest of his team which consisted of three others, a Canoness, a Neophyte, and a Sister of Battle Initiate. Overall, the group was made up of two warrior-trainers, each with one apprentice attached to.

"I told you it wouldn't work," said Canoness, smirking. The two rookies tethered to her shared Black Templar Crusader's disappointment. "And please, for the sake of the Emperor, let me hold your train ticket next time."

Both Guild Girl and Hospitaller stood speechless during the argument between the two giants. So engrossed was she in their discussion that Guild Girl almost forgot the long line of Adventurers ready to serve. She didn't notice the smell until…

"You said no heads, so how about this?" said a shirtless, tattooed adventure built like an Ogryn. "Good enough for you?"

As soon as she realized what was on her desk the whole time, she yelped. "Eww. Get that severed arm away! I said you didn't need that kind of proof."

"You are sure about this, aren't you?" asked Hospitaller. The journey to the abandoned workshop now infested by the greenskins was awfully quiet with neither of them saying a word to each other, and her heart sank at the negligence he was displaying to her the whole time. Hospitaller began to fear that, despite all the harsh training he gave her the day before, she might still end up more an impediment than an asset to him.

"I am very sure," said Gretchin Slayer, examining the bow and arrows he had brought. If the shotgun he used before, and still carrying right now, was primitive enough as a weapon in this era, this felt like a trip back to the dinosaur age. "Is your faith strong enough, though?"

"I can perform up to two Acts of Faith, thanks to this device here," said Hospitaller pointing at the amulet on her staff. Aside from it, she also had a laspistol on her hip – she didn't know how to use it properly but given the alien creatures preferred close-range combat, even a poor shooter like her could snatch a few hits. "I know it's not much, but…."

"Two is enough," said Gretchin Slayer, showing satisfaction with the wooden bow he had crafted himself.

"How are we going to approach this?" asked Hospitaller overseeing the enemy fortification from the top of a hill. Aside from at least several dozen Gretchins swarming the workshop, she could discern two artillery units similar to the one that took out Sister Superior the other day. One of the cannons appeared to have been destroyed with several parts detached and smoke billowing from it, though she couldn't be sure – any contraption made by Orks weren't supposed to function when in one piece in the first place. Gretchin dead were being heaped into a pile. The previous Adventurer group had definitely made their mark and caused some damage, but there was no sign of them now; presumably, according to Gretchin Slayer's prediction, they had all been slaughtered.

"They are organized to an extent," said Gretchin Slayer. "A leader is here. An Ork."

"Which one do you think?" asked Hospitaller. During his lecture the day before, Gretchin Slayer had mentioned what type of leadership could Gretchins have and their behaviors under such.

"No outer perimeter sentry, so definitely not a Runtherd," Gretchin Slayer deduced from his observation. Ever glowing red like a star drenched in blood, the enhanced optic attached to the left eye of his helmet allowed him to see further and zoom into finer detail than what normal Tactical Space Marine helmets would offer. "Machine is broken, yet no one is repairing, so a Mek is also out of the question. No other Ork around, so unlikely a Nob is in charge here. Cadavers are being piled up not for disposal but to be used as a resource."

Gretchin Slayer looked at Hospitaller expectantly. "A Painboy?" she guessed.

"Correct," said Gretchin Slayer. She could feel a ghost of a smile underneath his helmet as if he was glad all the training he had given her didn't go to waste. "Gretchins are cowards and dimwitted, lacking any leadership quality, and so their sole purpose is to be dominated by the Orks who could at least give them another, more meaningful, purpose. The Gretchins won't run away from the first sign of danger when an Ork is around, as punishment at the hand of these slave masters is worst then death in most cases. The Ork leader caste, either those born that way as Oddboyz or having fought their way through the rank, also make competent leaders of Gretchins. Out of them, Painboyz offered little in terms of leadership or motivation. It is rather odd to see one of them in charge of a bunch of Gretchins and nothing else. Gretchins don't make as good patients (victims) as Orks and most would not even survive anesthesia induced by a mallet blow to the head."

"What do you think this is about then?" asked Hospitaller. The way of the aliens was completely baffling to her; the Adeptus Sororitas always prioritized slaying xenos over studying them. Then again, Gretchin Slayer could sometimes be equally unknowable.

"I don't know," said Gretchin Slayer. "Doesn't matter, though. It ends here." Hospitaller was relieved to hear that; trying to make too much sense of the Orks was making her head spin.

Gretchin Slayer advanced from his position towards the workshop with Hospitaller trailing behind. For someone so large and bulky, the Space Marine's movements were quiet and steady, yet as swift as a jaguar. The two of them got within striking distance without being spotted.

Pulling out his bow, Gretchin Slayer lit a spark on the fuse of the piece of homemade explosive and let loose the arrow it was attached to at the remaining cannon. Rather than taking cover, the Gretchins saw the fuse sizzling and gathered around, hoping to get the thing off their precious machine before it could cause any harm. The ensuing detonation took out the cannon and at least ten Gretchins around it. Secondary explosions from the munition laid around rippled across the yard and the right-wing of the workshop, sending incinerated Gretchins flying and putting the rest in a state of panic.

Hospitaller's guess was confirmed when an Ork wearing a twisted parody of a healer's robe, complete with surgeon tools embedded on each of his huge fingers and a white mask on his face, walked out of the building and shouted orders. Immediately, the Gretchins gathered their wit, got into action station, and prepared to repel whoever was attacking them.

"We'z unda attak," the Painboy bellowed. "Grab some weapons, ya git. And try to bring them to me in one piece. I need more specimens."

Gretchin Slayer emerged from his cover and shouted a challenge at them. At once, the Gretchins charged his direction in unison.

"Form two barriers in straight lines from where you are," Gretchin Slayer addressed Hospitaller. "Have them form a ninety-degree angle, but not touching each other."

"That won't stop them," Hospitaller pointed out.

"It's not to stop them," Gretchin Slayer explained. "It's to funnel them."

Hospitaller did as she was told. Using her Acts of Faith, she put each energy barrier in a straight line in the direction as instructed, each running for twenty meters. Any sensible armed force would have backed off and dispersed for better flanking opportunities, but the Gretchins ran into the barrier and kept going along it towards the Space Marine waiting for them. Whether it was sheer stupidity that led them down this path or the fear of the onerous Ork shouting at their back, the small aliens did exactly what Gretchin Slayer wanted: they had bunched up.

Drawing his shotgun, Gretchin Slayer sprayed pellets into the mob of greenskins. Like Hospitaller had witnessed in her first encounter with him, the weapon choice couldn't have been better. Every shot, every of the gun pump, and every crunching sound of flesh lacerated and bones crushed, was in a perfect rhythm. No matter how many were killed, more kept on coming and Gretchin Slayer exhausted the gun's ammunition within seconds.

Showing no sign of panicking, Gretchin Slayer fended off the attackers in melee with well-placed punches and kicks, elbow smacks and headbutts, all the while putting in fresh pellet shots at the speed of a sewing machine. Once the gun was fully loaded, he opened up and alien bodies exploded in mists of fore.

Having had enough, the Gretchins turned tail and fled, more willing to face whatever their Ork master had in store for them than facing the Space Marine in a situation like this. But their retreat path was no more. The energy barrier had been contorted inward, closing like a noose and trapping the remaining Gretchins inside. It was still two Acts of Faith as Hospitaller envisioned, just with a little twist added. The forcefields were a manifestation of her faith in the Emperor amplified by the arcane device in her staff, which meant its shape was entirely at the discretion of the user and if she believed they could be bent, then they could. Even Gretchin Slayer seemed pleasantly surprised by her improvision.

Overtaking by despair, the aliens flung themselves at either the barrier or Gretchin Slayer in the vain hope that one might break. In the end, the Gretchins were the ones that were left broken.

Having seen the massacre of his minions, the Painboy retreated to inside the warehouse with what few troops he had left. But he would find no safety in there.

"Stay here," Gretchin Slayer said to Hospitaller as he heaved a chainsword and approached the workshop. Somehow, the sight of him using actual standard Space Marine weapon reassured her. His creative methods only applied to Gretchins; when it came to Orks, he was conventional.

After several minutes waiting outside, Hospitaller was elated by the sight of Gretchin Slayer emerging from the workshop, drenched in blood and carrying a form of a woman on his arms – another Adventurer, by the look of it. As he walked closer, Hospitaller realized just how much this woman must have suffered under the Ork's ministration. One of her eyes had been literally poked out and her naked body bore the marks of many holes where needles the size of fingers were used to penetrate her flesh, either pumping out blood or pumping in whatever foul chemical the Painboy no doubt possessed. She barely survived. But alive she was. And Gretchin Slayer's prediction had failed. Because he hadn't asked for the Guild to reassign the quest, and now it was clear that he couldn't recover all the tags either, he would not be entitled to the reward even though he was the one who completed it.

Such was the way of the Adventurer's Guild. In a twist of irony, like the Imperium it tried to distance itself from, the Guild still valued efficiency and hard-and-fast rules over human interactions and case-by-case bases, albeit in a different way.

"Bring her back to the Guild for treatment," said Gretchin Slayer and he transferred the still conscious female Adventurer to Hospitaller.

"What about you?" Hospitaller asked.

"Some of the Gretchins escaped," Gretchin Slayer responded. "I will finish the hunt. Don't wait for me."

Hospitaller felt bad for leaving him behind, but this woman needed medical assistance as soon as possible and she knew better than to prevent Gretchin Slayer from doing what he did best. Not even Black Templar Crusader could.

"I will be back by tomorrow the latest," Gretchin Slayer assured.

"If there is anything, please call," Hospitaller replied, noting the comm unit he had given to her the day before. Even though this was her first actual outing as an Adventurer, and even though she still didn't know how to wield a gun, let alone shoot someone out of fright or rage, at no point at all did Hospitaller felt she was underprepared for this.

"I will," said Gretchin Slayer as they parted way.

* * *

Hospitaller traveled back to the Guild with the wounded woman in tow on a servitor-piloted cab, the same one she and Gretchin Slayer had used to get from the GUild to somewhere close to the workshop. Now that she had taken it, Gretchin Slayer would have to find another way home. The journey was by no means easy with the woman, despite being awake, acting erratically along the way. She spurted nonsense and occasionally vomited. Hospitaller tried to stabilize her and bandaged her wounds as much as she could before she could transfer her to the Guild's clinic. No matter how skilled she was in healing, this kind of injury required further facilities, higher expertise, and more sustained efforts, all which beyond her ability. The Guild provided treatment for Adventurers which, much like the cabin she was rising, came at a cost.

After dropping off the female Adventurer at the clinic, she headed to the main lobby where a number of Adventurers had gathered. Though she had not been here until yesterday, she could tell that something was unusual. Someone was playing loud music, which the Guild would normally not tolerate. There was also a feast: Squig ribs and legs were on the house. Hospitaller remembered hearing a group of Adventurers discuss two quests about slaying the same mob of Orks riding on squigs in the morning. That must be where they were getting all this meat.

Black Templar Crusader was at the center of everyone's attention. A decapitated Ork skull larger than any Hospitaller had seen lied beneath his feet as he raised his fist triumphantly. The cheers and praises from other Adventurers in the chamber were loud enough to shake the ceiling. Several local officials and magistrates had also joined in to celebrate the defeat of such a vicious foe and the brave warrior responsible for it.

The only person who did not appear to be enjoying this was Guild Girl who was putting on a smile just for show. In fact, she looked to be crying on the inside. She didn't like loud noises in her office, and she loathed people bringing severed Ork body parts into the Guild all the time (she kept telling them to take pictures instead).

Hospitaller saw Black Templar Crusader notice her on her way in. There was a flicker of disappointment on his face that his cousin (in a complicated way), Gretchin Slayer, was not part of this. The feeling didn't linger and he went back to responding to the applause he was showered with an uproarious cry of his own, prompting the others to cheer even louder and Guild Girl to sweat uncontrollably.

Hospitaller joined the party. She was an official Adventurer now and every Adventurer was invited to this, out of the excess of Squig meat the Guild suddenly came across. While she was saddened that Gretchin Slayer was still out there fighting while she and the others were here celebrating, she found Black Templar Crusader's disappointment unfounded. She remembered going across a village and the people there also cheered when they saw the smoke billowing in the direction she came from. The workshop had been set on fire and the greenskins along with whatever nefarious schemes they were brewing were no more. The villagers who had suffered from the alien menace showed their gladness now that the threat was over. Their happiness helped Hospitaller feel vindicated.

And it vindicated what Gretchin Slayer had been doing all along.

* * *

_**Author's note: Here is chapter 3 of the story. Hope you enjoy. Please comment in the review section. It means a lot to me.**_

_**This chapter introduces one of the Adventurer's groups from the manga/anime/LN:**_

_**Heavy Warrior - Black Templar Crusader. I would like to have him with more personality than in the source material.**_

_**Female Knight - Cannoness.**_

_**Rookie Warrior - Neophyte. The Black Templars don't use Scouts. Instead, their rookies are attached to full-fledged Battle-Brothers to learn from them.**_

_**Apprentice Cleric - Initiate. The Sister of Battle equivalent to a Space Marine Neophyte.**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

**The more the merrier**

With the death of their immediate leader, the Ork's foothold in the region faltered and their numbers dwindled every day as more died to infighting than at the guns of the Imperials. Over the two weeks after Black Templar Crusader cut off the head of the snake, sporadic skirmishes had broken out here and there, their outcomes inconclusive despite severe casualties inflicted upon the greenskins by the Adventurers working in conjunction with the local militia. Nevertheless, the course of the war was going smoothly and the province was expected to be clear of the alien menace within a few months. There was much work to be done until final victory could be achieved, but, at least for now, the Adventurers had won the respite they needed.

Guild Girl took a sip from her tea as she reflected upon the current situation, both of the raging war and her own. The cup was now empty. Normally, the Guild would be so busy she hardly ever could finish a single cup before it got cold, but now things had certainly calmed down. Thanks to the heroic effort of Black Templar Crusader, the region was closer to being secured, a fact reflected upon the locals who could now travel further, trade with larger volumes and build more permanent structures without fear of getting harmed or robbed by the aliens.

For the locals, life was returning to normal with everyone looking forward to the day in which total victory was declared.

For Guild Girl, she knew this was only the lull in the storm. Once this planet was secured, Lord Rogue Trader would dismantle the Adventure Guild and move it to another war-torn world. Her job, like that of the Adventurers, was never-ending. She knew it because she inherited this post from her mother who previously worked as a logistical clerk of the Mercenary Contingent, the predecessor to the Adventurer's Guild. Her mother's position was quite different from what she held right now due to the fact the term "Adventurer" didn't exist in the vocabulary back then and it involved dealing with actual mercenaries who were trained, equipped and assigned into proper fighting formations by their client.

Adventurers were quite different from mercenaries also because they were more independent and could be considered a form of a subcontract, whereas the latter was an asset, one that required both refinement and caution when using. The Mercenary Contingent, as Guild Girl had learned about, through mixing warriors of different cultures together, was highly ineffective as a united fighting force. Hence, the Adventurer's Guild was formed to enhance the performance of small groups of warriors to achieve a greater number of lesser objectives, rather than the large formations used for campaigning its predecessor once supported. Whichever the term and definition, the ultimate goal remained unchanged.

Wherever the enemies of man went unopposed.

Wherever the faithful suffered under the oppression of the sinners.

And wherever a chance to make quick profit presented itself.

The Adventurer's Guild would be there.

Today had been comparatively quiet, many Adventurers having moved to other regions still heavily infested by the xenos, and Guild Girl spent a bit more time for herself than usual. She put on lipstick and used perfume, hoping to make herself more presentable to the Adventurers that still came and went around. As an employer for good number of years up to this point, Guild Girl understood the line of work better than most, and if she could attract people's attention a bit more, then they would be more inclined to listen to what she had to say.

Such as no dismembered bodies in the Guild building. Period.

"Good morning there." A young-looking man with spiky red hair and a cable connecter at the back of his head greeted Guild Girl. She recognized him as the pilot of a Paladin Imperial Knight. The fact he went to battle in a superheavy war machine automatically made him the undisputedly most powerful Adventurer on this planet. That being said, high maintenance cost meant he rarely took a quest from the Guild, and when he did it was bound to be of great importance, such as the destruction of the Gargant three months ago. Out of all the Adventurers, he took the whole thing the least seriously and spent much of his time hanging around and lazily enjoying life, and who could really blame him when he could single-handedly wipe out an entire Ork force that even ten Adventurers would have trouble against. And as the heir to at least a continent of a planet, if not the whole planet should all his siblings died before he did, money was never an issue for him.

"Good morning to you, too," Guild Girl replied courteously. "How can I help you?"

Paladin Pilot put down his elbow on the counter and gazed at Guild Girl as if she were a painting. "Yes, it would help me greatly if I knew why such a beautiful lady like you would spend her whole days attending to the needs of a bunch of scoundrels."

By scoundrels, he meant the Adventurers in general, which was not that far from the truth. Many were, indeed, former outlaws, brigands, even those accused of heresy and aliens. Many had never prayed to the Emperor in their life, while others had even fought alongside the enemies of men at some point. The Guild cared little about the background of Adventurers, only that they could further its cause in meaningful ways.

Another reason why Paladin Pilot wasn't fond of socializing with other Adventurers. His lofty standards placed him a mile ahead of the others.

"Sometimes I wonder the same," Guild Girl cooed. As front desk clerk, she was prepared for any type of conversation with both Adventurers ad quest givers, and that included, quite often so far, idle flirts. "In the end, however, I agree that family honors trump personal desires. My mother worked for the Rogue Trader family and so were the ones before her. My career path was clear the moment I was born."

"That sounds awfully boring," Paladin Pilot remarked.

Guild Girl shrugged while maintaining her ever-smiling visage. "It is fated. Once I got used to it, it isn't that bad."

"If that were my fate, I would have run away as soon as I had the chance." Paladin Pilot then paused and laughed. "Oh wait, that's exactly what I did. I'm a Freeblade now. And there's nothing they can do to stop me."

"Running away from your parents, I see," Guild Girl countered. "Not a very nice thing to do to those who gave birth and raise you up. And now you are also traveling with a psyker. How does that make you better than the ones you refer to as _scoundrels_?"

"Believe me," Paladin Pilot assured. "I am the only gentleman you will see in a lightyear from here. I've got my tally to prove it, even my own flock of admirers. Out of all the Adventurers here, how many…."

"Excuse us," said a deep and coarse voice. "This is the Adventurer's Guild, right?"

"Yes, sir," replied Guild Girl, her attention turned to the person who just entered. He was approached by two others. "How can we help?"

"We are here to enlist," said a melodic female voice. "And to find another comrade for our team. The hand of fate directs us to this rundown shack."

"Hey man, wait for your turn," Paladin Pilot grumbled. But as he turned around to look at who just disturbed him, he found the words snuffed out of his throat as if by a vacuum cleaner. The trio standing behind him were the most usual he, as well as Guild Girl, had seen so far.

One was an Aeldari Ranger with green hair tied in twin braids at the front. She wore a white and green robe with a hood on top. Her face looked astonishingly beautiful if one could ignore the fact she wasn't human at all, complete with large green eyes, full lips, and two pointy ears. The sight of an Asuryani shouldn't have come as that much a surprise, all things considered. The planet had a small colony of Aeldari Exodite which had remained reclusive to most human activities so far, and one of the Adventurer's Guild branches had even confirmed the enlistment of a Drukhari. She was the female voice.

The standing next to her, looking much older despite standing only at half her height, was a far more suspicious individual and the first person to speak. His appearance included a conspicuous lack of height, rotund belly and an abundance of muscle on his arms and legs. He had white long hair in a ponytail and well-taken-care-off beard tied into multiple sections beneath his chin. Like his companion, the man ignored any armor and was dressed in voluminous red and white outfit which suggested nobility background, the many pockets it had no doubt storing deadly surprises for his opponent. However, the most distinguishing feature was the necklace he wore bearing the =][=, the symbol of the Holy Inquisition. Guild Girl had dealt with the Inquisition before – the Guild came under regular inspection by them to ensure everything went according to Imperial rule – but she never expected one would enlist in it.

Nor did she expect an Inquisitor to be so short. Apparently, in becoming part of the Holy Ordos, height wasn't a factor.

Finally, and most menacingly, there was Tech-Priest Dominus who was draped in a single large robe over his exoskeleton body frame. Striding on four spider-like mechanical legs and towering over the other two like a small mountain, the Tech-Priest was already a fearsome sight to behold even if one were to take away all the strange-looking weapons, devices and bionics that protruded from his back. This man, if there was any humanity left in him, was bristling with tools for a multitude of purposes and not only war, beyond Guild Girl's ability to count.

"Conversation pattern suggests non-business going on between you and the young female," said Tech-priest Dominus, addressing the dumbfounded Paladin Pilot. "Possibility of misidentification: 23%. Course of action: ask directly. Noble Knight, are you in the process of work?"

The Knight pilot scratched the back of his head uncomfortably. "Well, …not really."

"Then perhaps you wouldn't mind if she helps us first," Asuryani Ranger chimed in.

Paladin Pilot stepped aside muttering something foul beneath his breath.

The Inquisitor stepped forward and placed a letter onto the desk. "We are here on our own agenda. Confidential, as all things related to the Inquisition. But Lord Rogue Trader offered to help. He directed us here, saying the best way to achieve our main objective around is being Adventurers ourselves."

Guild Girl picked up the letter and opened it. Sure enough, it was from Lord Rogue Trader who owned this establishment alright. The letter addressed her and told her of the coming of these three special agents who wished to be enlisted into the Adventurer's Guild. No examination was required, for they had proven their worth many times over (no surprise there). As a final note, he said he wanted to assign an Adventurer to them, ominously defined as someone Guild Girl had already known much about.

"Please fill in the forms and I will proceed to complete the procedure," said Guild Girl as she handed out application documents. "If anything is classified, feel free to leave blank." Not that Adventurers faking their background weren't rare around here, but just in case they felt uneasy with providing so much information about themselves. "You said you were looking for someone, an Adventurer who regularly go to this branch. Who is it?"

"Orkbolg," said Asuryani Ranger quickly. "That's how my people call him. Do you happen to know?"

"I am afraid I don't know anyone by that name," Guild Girl replied.

The Inquisitor let out a belly laugh and pushed the alien girl aside. "Oh, stop spewing xenos riddles around here. No one here is going to understand those." He then leaned closer to Guild Girl, saying, "Sorry for her lack of human etiquette. I should have taught her better, I know. The fellow we are looking for, as my colleagues and I at the Ordo refer to, is called Beardshredder."

"That's not a name I recognize either," said Guild Girl, maintaining her simper in the face of these Adventurers bickering.

The Inquisitor's eyes widened in surprise. "Are you certain?"

"I have the records and names of all the Adventurers on this planet," Guild Girl explained as she typed onto her cogitator. "There is none by that name either."

Asuryani Ranger sniggered. "So not even your file is any good. Isn't that obvious? Your data are just as quizzical as the myths of the Eldar. The only difference is that your people lack the experience and intelligence to truly comprehend such complexities."

"Don't you dare call me inexperienced, alien," the Inquisitor snapped. "I lived for over a century and served the Imperium almost as much."

"That's cute," Asuryani Ranger countered. "A century-old is the equivalent of the age where a child would go leave their basic education and adopt their first path on my Craftworld. If we are using your Imperial calendar, then I should be four hundred and twenty-three by now."

"Yet you still act like a child," the Inquisitor seethed. "And your chest is as flat as the surface of an anvil."

Upon hearing this, Asuryani Ranger reddened. "Why you…."

"Enough of this bickering," Tech-priest Dominus admonished as he stepped forward. "I was expecting more maturity from both of you. I will have to readjust my calculation on your behavior after this." He turned towards Guild Girl and bowed his metallic head in apology. "My colleagues' lack of manner is deplorable. Solution: ask for forgiveness."

"It's not a big deal, really," said Guild Girl. "I have people like these two all the time."

"Where were we?" Tech-priest Dominus continued, both his voice and speech pattern mechanical. "Oh, yes, our goal: find the individual recommended to us by Lord Rogue Trader. Aeldari and Inquisitorial data are inconclusive. Course of action: use knowledge possessed by the Mechanicus. Profile found. The terminology might be sketchy, but it is he-who-leaves-a-trail-of-dead-Gretchin-in-his-wake."

Guild Girl lightened up at the mention of a familiar name. "Oh, I think I know just who that is."

At this point, the door to the Guild opened and a Space Marine in clad grey Vanguard Armor entered, a sleeping girl being carried on his shoulder like a piece of log. As usual, after a completed quest, his armor was thoroughly drenched in blood. The sight and smell were slightly repulsive to Guild Girl but at least he didn't bring any grizzly trophy back to the Guild, not that anybody here required him to bring proof that he had seen to some Gretchins. He made a beeline towards the receptionist's desk and took his place behind the trio having the conversation with Guild Girl.

Speak of the devil.

"Sir Gretchin Slayer," Guild Girl greeted him. "You are back. You came just in time. We were just having a discussion about you here."

"We?" Gretchin Slayer coined as he turned his attention to Asuryani Ranger, the Inquisitor and Tech-priest Dominus who looked back in speechlessness. "I don't know any of you."

"Orkbolg?" asked Asuryani Ranger expectantly. "Are you him?"

"First time I heard someone call me that," Gretchin Slayer replied.

"Beardshredder?" the Inquisitor suggested.

"I am a Space Marine, not a barber," denied Gretchin Slayer.

"You leave a trail of dead Gretchins in your wake?" Tech-priest Dominus resumed.

Gretchin Slayer nodded. "Now that does sound like something I do."

"Looks like we found our man," announced Tech-priest Dominus. "Margin of error: 3%. Course of action: Proceed to explain the situation and scheme."

"Without so many people around," cautioned the Inquisitor. "Is there any closed room we can use for a while."

"Yes," said Guild Girl. "Meeting Room 4 on the second floor. It is perfectly secured. Help yourself."

Asuryani Ranger made a gesture towards the girl still sleeping on Gretchin Slayer's shoulder. "What about her? The plan is to reveal the classified information to a fourth party member. I didn't think there was a fifth."

"That's alright," Gretchin Slayer assured. "I will leave her out of this if you want."

"No need," said the Inquisitor. "Having another member won't hurt. Besides, it is always good to have someone so devoted to the Emperor and His holy creed. Traveling with an alien polytheist makes me question my faith."

"You talk as if you are so pious," Asuryani Ranger scoffed.

"All the more reason to have a cleric with us," the Inquisitor insisted.

"Perhaps we should evaluate the information between the four of us before we reveal to her," suggested Tech-priest Dominus. "You should know her better. You can decide."

Gretchin Slayer nodded. "Very well. We wiped out a Gretchin infestation just before we came here. I will make a report on that later." He turned to face Guild Girl. "My companion is exhausted. We hunted down the fleeing enemy through the night and across three villages and two hills. Can I leave her in the lobby? Can you look after her while I am gone?"

Gretchin Slayer was right to be worried. Many Adventurers were a bunch of scoundrels indeed and no one should ever let their guards down when among them. "Of course," Guild Girl replied. "Also, when your reward is ready for collection, I will inform you as soon as I can."

"Good," said Gretchin Slayer.

With that, he put down the sleeping Hospitaller onto a couch and left with the three Adventurers who wished to discuss something with him in secret.

* * *

"I am from the Ordo Malleus," the Inquisitor introduced. "Does that sound familiar?"

"I have heard of your organization," Gretchin Slayer replied. During his training to become a Space Marine, he as a young boy learned about the myriad of opponents that threatened mankind's rule in the galaxy. Out of those, only when he was fully inducted into the rank of Battle Brothers did he learn the vilest and most devious of them all, for knowledge of it alone was not for those who lacked mental fortitude. "You are the hunter of Daemons and heretics. Is that why you didn't properly introduce yourself back then? Because the knowledge about the existence of Chaos is supposedly suppressed."

"Yes," said Malleus Inquisitor. "It is part of the protocol."

Gretchin Slayer shrugged. "Well, you should know that Chaos is universal knowledge, at least among the Adventurers here. Many of them are veterans from different warzones and quite a few I can tell have fought against Chaos before."

"As I said, it is part of the protocol, note something I chose," said Malleus Inquisitor. "Still, even if everybody here knows the existence of Chaos, not all know it is right on the planet right now. Imagine the trouble it would have been had I made my title be known to all. So far, the entire war on this planet has been against the Orks and I can tell that we are dangerously underprepared for another threat. There would be hysteria. And it would be hard to think that an Inquisitor of the Ordo Malleus would come this far just to slay some greenskins, don't you agree?"

Gretchin Slayer was unconvinced. "If there is Chaos on the planet, wouldn't it be wise to reveal outright? So that everyone could be better prepared. We could have the entire Adventurer's Guild on this and not the four of us."

"We have not yet confirmed the extent of the threat," Asuryani Ranger insisted. "All we know is that the Chaos Space Marine Legion known as Shadow Hand, an offshoot of the Alpha Legion, has a presence in this world. If we stir up the populace for no good reason, that would hurt the ongoing war effort against the Orks as well."

"Let's say I believe in you," Gretchin Slayer conceded. "What are we going to do about it? Don't say it's Exterminatus."

Malleus Inquisitor laughed raucously. "Nothing so drastic. We just follow the trail and eliminate the Chaos taint on this planet before it is allowed to grow into something unmanageable by the four of us."

"Assuming it has not already reached that point," Asuryani Ranger said skeptically. "You humans are so prone to corruption."

"And I am supposed to assist you in this?" asked Gretchin Slayer.

"That's what Lord Rogue Trader told us," Malleus Inquisitor confirmed.

"Then I fear I must decline," Gretchin Slayer declared, surprising the two. "This is not my job, nor my specialty. My skills are better spent elsewhere and I fear I will simply drag you down.

"What kind of Space Marine would refuse a quest to slay Chaos?" Malleus Inquisitor snapped. "Isn't defending humanity from all kinds of threats your duty?"

"It is," Gretchin Slayer argued. "But the method I have chosen to fulfill that will not be suitable for this kind of quest. I only do Gretchins, somethings Orks, but mostly Gretchins. Against the Forces of Chaos, I might be wanting."

Both Malleus Inquisitor and Asuryani Ranger were taken aback by his frankness in confessing his own shortcomings. The Space Marines were considered legendary heroes by the wider part of the Imperium: courageous until the very last breath, powerful beyond any human could dream, and victorious in the face of certain defeat. And right here, one of them openly admitted he was unsuited for a task without even giving it a try first.

Malleus Inquisitor let out a snigger and sat back, taking a swig from his wine cantina. As for Asuryani Ranger, her shock quickly turned to anger. She leaned forward and slammed her hand on the table harshly, green eyes staring at Gretchin Slayer with a mix of frustration and disgust.

"Do you have any idea what you are saying?" she maintained. "The Chaos threat might be unquantifiable, but we know it is real. If we overlook it now, like a small found festering, it will be our downfall in the foreseeable future. This whole planet could fall not to the invasion from without but the insurrection from within because that is how the Shadow Hand operates. We need your help because that is what Lord Rogue Trader had guaranteed us, and he has shown great wisdom in the past. The Farseers of my Craftworld have also made the prediction that you, Orkbolg, would lead us to glory and salvation. We went through all the trouble of finding the place, traveling here just so that we can recruit you to our cause."

"For an Aeldari, you seem awfully concerned about the fate of an Imperial world," Gretchin Slayer commented.

"This planet you humans are settling on is also home to a colony of Exodites," Asuryani Ranger explained, gritting her teeth. "My Craftworld's policy is to help out these primitives who live in trees and make out with each other on stumps, regardless whether they appreciate it or not."

"Then I fear the wise Rogue Trader is wrong," said Gretchin Slayer blankly, "as well as your prophetic Farseers. I am not the one to help you. I have my duty to protect the Imperium and it's not by assisting you. However, I do know one who will be of great use to your cause. He is from the Black Templar Chapter. I can…."

"Let's ignore the Chaos threat for a moment," Tech-priest Dominus. He had remained silent ever since entering the room that the others almost thought he wasn't there. "We require your assistance in destroying a Gretchin infestation."

"Very well, I'm in," Gretchin Slayer declared, his mood swinging one-hundred-eighty degrees over. "Where are they? How many are there? What kind of leader present? Do they have vehicles, walkers or artilleries? Are they part of a larger Ork mob?"

Asuryani Ranger and Malleus Inquisitor looked at each other dumbfounded.

Tech-Priest Dominus produced a data slate from his robe (or perhaps it was actually attached to his body) and handed over to Gretchin Slayer. "I have uploaded the information here. Optimal course of action: you read it yourself."

"You are unbelievable," Asuryani Ranger pouted, shimmering down from her previous outburst.

Malleus Inquisitor simply laughed it off, "Ha, a Space Marine that only kills Gretchin. Not the strangest thing I've seen in all my years. It will definitely be a blast working with you."

"My gratitude," said Gretchin Slayer. "If there is nothing else, I will depart to prepare for this venture. Meet me at the Guild exactly seven hours later."

With that, he left.

He just left.

Leaving Asuryani Ranger, Malleus Inquisitor and Tech-priest Dominus in the room. All three of them were amazed by the conversation they just had.

* * *

Hospitaller nearly bolted in panic when she found herself sleeping on a couch in the middle of the Guildhall, without the Space Marine she was traveling with. Only when Guild Girl assured her Gretchin Slayer had told her to look after did she calm down.

The previous night had been strenuous to the extreme with her expanding an amount of stamina she never thought she had. The Gretchins were flushed out from a barn, but came to the dock and chased away the locals there. After they had been evicted from the dock, they took refuge in an abandoned Battlewagon. Gretchin Slayer burned down the wreckage, only to allow several to escape and hide in the nearby sewer. To put an end to this cat and mouse chase, Gretchin Slayer ordered the locals to seal off all exits and went in himself. He emerged an hour claiming the threat had finally been eradicated.

Hospitaller had kept up as much as possible and used her Acts of Faith whenever the opportunity presented itself. In the end, she was thoroughly spent.

Hospitaller was so deep in thoughts about what had happened in the previous adventure that she didn't notice two persons approaching her.

"Hey, you are that girl traveling with that Red Scar dude," said a boy about her age. She recognized him as Neophyte who was part of Black Templar Crusader's party. The lad's face was his age but his body was twice as large as hers, courtesy of the genetic enhancement typical of all Space Marines. In time, he would grow into as large as his mentor, if he didn't die first. "Nice to meet. I am Neophyte and this is Initiate."

"That man, how could he leave you all by yourself like this?" Initiate grumbled. "You could have been robbed or worse."

"No, it wouldn't happen," Hospitaller flushed.

"What? You think the Emperor will protect you from these scoundrels?" Initiate voiced. Though both she and Hospitaller were members of the Sisters of Battle, Hospitaller found the former a different animal entirely. Like the Space Marine rookie next to her, Initiate wore carapace armor, her pristine white next to his black. On this world, carapace armor was in rare supply and only reserved for high-ranking officers or rewarded to those with exceptional achievements; an Adeptus Sosoritas Initiate from the local coven would have to settle with flak armor and lasgun instead. "Not all of us around here are so pious, you know. People with the Emperor's words on their mouth and daggers in their hearts are more common than you think. That is why you should never let your guard down. Period. Be careful."

"That's not what I meant," Hospitaller explained as calm as she could despite her fluttering heart. On one hand, she was so embarrassed that Gretchin Slayer had to leave her behind to attend a secret meeting and she was sleeping during that. On the other, she couldn't help but feel thankful that he didn't want to disturb her rest. "Miss receptionist looks after me."

"How can you be so sure?" asked Neophyte. "It's not her job to take care of Adventurers."

"Sir Gretchin Slayer told her to," Hospitaller said.

"Where is he now?"

"He's in a meeting with someone."

"Who?"

"I don't know."

"He left you here and he didn't even tell you who he was meeting with?"

"It's a secret."

"Can't you see you are disposable?" Neophyte pressed. "Over the last two weeks, you came back early or he came back alone or both of you came back at the same time but you are sleeping, like today. Are you sure he is treating you like a companion and not just his Gretchin bait? Now he is nowhere to be seen. Don't you think he is plotting something behind your back? What if he is selling you off?"

Hospitaller flushed upon hearing the accusations. She couldn't respond at all. The boy was being too aggressive. Certainly enough, she had her doubts, but she had never allowed them to fully manifest into something other than a fragment of her immature imagination. Time and time again Gretchin Slayer's actions, no matter how excessive, were vindicated, and so was her decision to join him on adventures.

Initiate sighed. "Geez, you really are clueless when it comes to talking to girls, don't you? You can't expect her to answer coherently by scare her shitless like that."

Neophyte had a rude awakening as he realized the folly of his approach. "Oh, please pardon me!" Even when apologizing, he was being too loud for Hospitaller's liking. Just like his mentor, Black Templar Crusader. "I was being very senseless. I should not have berated you like that."

"Anyway," Initiate resumed. She offered Hospitaller a drink from her cantina which the latter was eager to accept. "He's a bit juvenile sometimes. Still overjoyed from being chosen to become a Space Marine, I suppose. But I share his sentiment. How could you follow a man like Gretchin Slayer?"

Hospitaller swallowed the water in her mouth before replying, as modestly as she could, "Well, it's not that bad. I mean, I haven't gotten into a disagreement with him once since we met. He also takes care of me well. I haven't been starved or injured over the last two weeks."

"So, you trust him?" inquired Initiate. "Wholeheartedly?"

Hospitaller pondered over the question. Would she really want to continue running up and down hills just for a couple of Gretchins? Would Gretchin Slayer, for any reason only an Astartes could understand, put her in harm's way and leave her there, in the name of greater glory for himself?

Maybe.

In her dream, that was. Just her bad dreams.

"Yes," she replied firmly. "Thanks for looking after me. But I think I am already looked after well by someone."

At this point, Gretchin Slayer emerged from the staircase, his eyes behind the visors glued to the dataslate in his hand. He took a quick glance, saw where Hospitaller was, and called to her, "Are you good?"

"Yeah," Hospitaller replied. "I'm fine. Thanks for telling the receptionist lady to look after me."

"It's a pleasure," said Guild Girl from the counter.

"Well, I hope we were wrong about your relationship with this dude," Neophyte conceded. He turned to Initiate. "Come on, let's go."

"Right," Initiate agreed. She gave a smile at Hospitaller. "Good luck then, sister."

"Are those from Black Templar Crusader's party?" asked Gretchin Slayer, gesturing the two just leaving.

Hospitaller was about to answer when she was interrupted by three newly enlisted Adventurers.

"Didn't your parents ever teach you courtesy, human-Orkbolg?" Asuryani Ranger complained. "The moment you were informed there would be Gretchin to slay, you just left us."

"Whatever my parents taught me is inconsequential now," Gretchin Slayer replied coolly. "I only know what I was taught by my Chapter, and, yes, courtesy to Inquisitors, aliens, and Tech-priests is not part of the lesson."

Malleus Inquisitor burst into laughter. "Hahahahaha. Good one right there. Traveling with you might be the best thing ever."

"We should disclose this information to her as well," Tech-priest Dominus noted. "If you believe she is ready, Lord Gretchin Slayer."

"She is ready," Gretchin Slayer confirmed. "She may look that way but she is tough and talented."

"And pious?" asked Malleus Inquisitor.

"Yes."

"I guess since we are all damage dealers, it's good to have a support member in our party," said Asuryani Ranger.

Though Hospitaller wasn't sure what to make of the new companions, their origin, standards, and motivation all a mystery to her, part of her was glad Gretchin Slayer was helping them to accept her. His praises were uplifting to her heart.

"Thank you," she said to the four them. "I hope I won't pull you down."

"Then let's do it," Malleus Inquisitor guffawed joyously. "Let's make her swear on the pain of castration before death never to reveal it to anyone else."

"What?!" Hospitaller exclaimed. "But I…."

Asuryani Ranger scoffed. "Human males are so vulgar. I'm glad I won't be the only maiden heart in this team."

"Don't worry," said Gretchin Slayer. "Whatever secret they hold won't be much of a secret soon. Let's just keep it to ourselves for now."

"Alright," Hospitaller sighed. "I promise I will."

With that, the five of them set out to their respective places to prepare. They would reconvene at the Guild six and a half hours later to set out for the Adventure.

Asuryani Ranger went to search for accommodation after she was assured the people on this planet weren't at all hostile to aliens just because they were aliens. She would be staying here for a while and the facility of the Guild was abysmal. Besides, she really wanted to stay away from humans as much as she could, so she probably bought up some abandoned house somewhere.

Malleus Inquisitor took a look around to see if he could find any hidden Chaos taint around. Hospitaller was surprised to know his full title; she thought the Inquisition only had two branches, Xenos to deal with aliens from without and Hereticus to deal with dissidents from within. Gretchin Slayer assured her everything would be explained to her in due time.

Tech-priest Dominus headed to the local Mechanicus chapel for his personal purpose which the others weren't the least curious about.

Gretchin Slayer went back to the barn to meet with Cow Girl and picked up additional gears from his garage.

And Hospitaller returned to the convent to rest. The ride took half an hour, which meant she only had four hours of additional rest before being thrust into another life-threatening situation. Being an Adventurer was tough.

But so was she, Gretchin Slayer corrected said.

* * *

_**Author's Note: I am updating this one regularly. As a fan of 40k, I really like how the Goblin Slayer universe can be translated into it. I originally wanted to make the crossover with Age of Sigmar instead with Goblin Slayer a Stormcast Eternal who was slain in his previous life by Goblins. Since people aren't into Age of Sigmar and I am not into the now-dead Warhammer Fantasy, 40k would do.**_

_**More characters being introduced and their 40k counterparts:**_

_**Spearman - Paladin Knight Pilot.**_

_**Dwarf Shaman - Malleus Inquisitor.**_

_**High Elf Archer - Asuryani Ranger.**_

_**Lizardman Priest - Tech-priest Dominus. His depiction is based on the Tech-priests in the game Mechanicus. The game is completely broken and you can buff your units to the point where they can wipe out the entire map in one shot. Even the final boss was no match for the might of the Red Planet cheese. Lizardman from Gretchin Slayer also summons skeletons, which can be translated into robots in 40k.**_

_**Thanks for reading. Please leave your reviews if you can. **_


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

**Team building**

"He who stands with me shall be my brother"

_Gabriel Angelos, Chapter Master of the Blood Ravens._

Hospitaller felt a bit overwhelmed about the knowledge that was revealed to her regarding the history and nature of the foe Malleus Inquisitor was concerned with – the foe she would soon have to deal with. There was a good reason why it was kept hidden from most of the Imperium for so long: the existence of Chaos carried within it such powerful forces of corruption that they were better off unknown by weaker minds. Gretchin Slayer and Malleus Inquisitor had an argument on how much Hospitaller should be allowed to learn, the latter wanting a comprehensive lecture like the one he received, including the events of the Horus Heresy and the current situation following the fall of Cadia, while the latter opting for a more concise, barely-enough version of it. In the end, Gretchin Slayer let the Inquisitor do the teaching.

To sum up, Hospitaller learned that heresy wasn't simply referring to the act of ignoring or defying the Imperial Creed as she had known so far, but the actual worshipping of extra-dimensional deities known as the Chaos Gods. The Chaos Gods and their minions were trapped in their own universe known as the Warp or the Immaterium but could be summoned into real space when their followers here did something really bad. People had often been led astray into their service on the false promises of power, immortality, pleasure, or the fulfillment of some base desires. Unfortunately for them, the Chaos Gods only chose the best (or worst, depending on point of view) of them and finally granted them their wishes. The majority were discarded like sweet wrappers.

Chaos was the ultimate enemy of all beings in this universe. A primordial evil since the galaxy's youth, their threat of corruption was arguably more severe than the threat of annihilation posed by the Orks, Tyranids, and Necrons. For that reason, the Imperium and the Aeldari must unite to bring them down, hence the current mission. A group of Chaos Space Marines known as the Shadow Hand was on the planet up to no good, and Malleus Inquisitor was determined to eliminate them, all the while maintaining this a secret to prevent mass hysteria on the planet. Hospitaller had been taught to mistrust Space Marines in general for their unorthodox and borderline heretical view of the Emperor, but this was the first time she heard of them actually fight against the Imperium, let alone the fact half of all Space Marines at one point turned traitors according to Gretchin Slayer.

Aside from the difficulty in swallowing the information dumped on her, Hospitaller was comfortable to be with her new allies as they gathered around a table preparing for dinner. The motel they were staying the night at was situated dangerously close to the frontline; their targeted customers were none other than the traveling Adventurers. Obviously, the motel was by no means defenseless. A series of sentries, booby traps, misdirecting signs and hidden sniper posts were put in place to prevent unwanted Ork incursion, and in the event the enemy broke through, they still would have to contend with the armed-to-the-teeth guests staying at the hotels. In a way, this was more of a barrack and less of a motel. Luckily, this place had both hot showers and plenty of hot food.

"So, what are we looking at?" Malleus Inquisitor asked incredulously as he looked at the red and green piece of jelly-thing placed in front of him which Asuryani had prepared one for each.

"I lack the term in Low Gothic," said Asuryani Ranger. "But it is a common appetizer in my Craftworld. I brought some to share with you guys because, you know, it's a sign of camaraderie. So, uhm, you may dig in." Unlike Hospitaller, the Aeldari girl appeared quite fidgety being around all these humans, or more likely, being forced into a position where she had no choice but to play nice with humans. Hospitaller was told the Aeldari considered themselves a superior breed and held humanity with contempt for reckless expansionism and being vulnerable to Chaos corruption.

"Wow, that's very nice of you. Thank you." Hospitaller gave her a reassuring smile. Aeldari Ranger nodded shyly back.

"Unidentified components detected," Tech-priest Dominus analyzed in a mechanical voice. "Coloring is unnatural. Smell is similar to raspberry mixed with milk. Texture is smooth and slippery. Use of a spoon is advised."

"I don't usually accept gifts from xenos," Gretchin Slayer stated. "But will make an exception here. Thank you."

"Wait a second," Malleus Inquisitor warned. "We don't know what's in it. Just because the Aeldari have been eating it doesn't mean it's fit for human consumption. I, for once, suggest we take precaution."

"Oh, come on," Asuryani Ranger pouted. "If I wanted to kill you, I would have taken one of the seven hundred chances I've got since we met."

"What do you suggested then?" asked Gretchin Slayer.

"I think it's really good," said Hospitaller, already taken a spoonful from the alien food. "It feels like jelly, but it is actually quite soft. And the flavor is the best thing I've had." Gretchin Slayer, Malleus Inquisitor, and Tech-priest Dominus stared at her blankly for many seconds as if waiting for her to explode or something.

"Do you feel anything strange?" pressed Malleus Inquisitor. "Anything from being hot inside to your ears becoming pointy like those Aeldari?"

Hospitaller touched her ears to confirm. "No. It's perfectly fine."

Asuryani Ranger stood vindictively. "See? Why can't all humans appreciate this act of goodwill like her? Why must you suspect me for everything just because I am an Aeldari?"

"I see," said Gretchin Slayer. "I am sorry." His portion had already been reduced by a third. No one at the table knew how he ate that – he was still wearing his entire Power Armor set including his helmet with the red visor. "An interesting taste, I must say."

"Are you really eating?" asked Asuryani Ranger skeptically.

Tech-priest Dominus spooned the jelly-like food and shoved it into a cavity that appeared on his steel-clad chest. This was followed by the audible sound of the food being ground, processed, and finally "digested", as if he was showing to the others there was no trick and he was actually "eating".

"My biological aspect sings with joy at the treat I am given," Tech-priest Dominus stated, which sounded as much a compliment as someone praising the air they were breathing. "It is very nutritionally balanced, with 97% further incorporated into my body, and the taste harmonious and light enough one would be inclined for ore fine dining within the main course."

"Thanks, I guess," said Asuryani Ranger.

Hospitaller took another spoonful and savored in the delight of what Asuryani Ranger had no doubt put a great deal of effort into preparing. The appetizer literally melted in her mouth, making her beg for more as soon as one bite was finished. Looking back, when she took the first bite despite warning from Malleus Inquisitor, part of her had been hoping she would not regret it; the convent had warned her about strange food that off-worlders brought here and how they could make her sick or trigger allergies she didn't know she had. However, given how Asuryani Ranger had been so fervent in making a good impression to her allies, she knew she couldn't let it come to pass. In the end, she was glad it all turned out well.

Next to her, Gretchin Slayer was already half-way through without ever taking off his helmet.

Malleus Inquisitor shunned cutlery altogether and took bites from the appetizer held in his hands, which was so slippery he had to juggle the thing from hand to hand. "Damn, that's some fine stuff indeed. Never thought alien culinary would be so splendid."

At he spoke, he lost grasp of the jelly-like thing which came flying to the ceiling. All the eyes at the table were drawn to it. It fell down and landed right into Malleus Inquisitor's wide opening mouth like a basketball finding the hoop.

"Nice catch," Gretchin Slayer commented.

Asuryani Ranger was far less impressed. "Where were you raised? Fenris? Necromunda? And you said I was the one in need of human manner."

The rest of the meal, main course and dessert included, went by following the same pattern: Asuryani Ranger and Malleus Inquisitor finding reasons to aggravate one another like cat and dog, Tech-priest Dominus showing off his obsession with food despite most of his body consisted of machines, Gretchin Slayer eating in silence and Hospitaller enjoying her meal while giggling at the scene unfolding before her.

Dinner was quite a lot. Malleus Inquisitor only asked for what Adventurers had been ordering around, and they had brought braised lamb, followed by grilled grox, followed by fried Squig leg with tomato sauce (Asuryani Ranger had to skip this one for religious reason), followed by banana ice-cream for dessert, all of which served in portion suitable for Ogryns. The meal really gave meaning to the saying it took a strong stomach to be an Adventurer.

With their bellies full, the Adventurers sat back at the dining table for a while longer and bantered, trying to know a bit more about their newly acquired allies. They would all need to wake up early in the morning on the next day to continue their travel, but, as Asuryani Ranger correctly pointed out, the building of camaraderie was more important.

"So how long have you been working together?" Hospitaller asked.

"Him, one week ago, at a space station in a nearby sector," said Malleus Inquisitor. "She, two days before, on this planet. Had to save her from a horde of greenskins."

"No, you didn't," Asuryani Ranger protested. "I was handling them just fine."

"You were completely surrounded by Orks," Malleus Inquisitor insisted. "At least six of them, only a few meters away. I would love to see how you try to fight them off in the melee."

"I swear to Khaine I would have downed all of them if you hadn't called me out and distracted me," Asuryani Ranger countered. "Besides, it was the Stormtroopers who delivered me from the maw of death. I remember you just watched and didn't even lift a finger."

Malleus Inquisitor was unflinching. "I wouldn't have gotten there in time had I tried. Instead, I took the best course of action possible by holding my ground against another Ork mob while coordinating the defense."

"Yeah, those stubby legs of yours could really use some stretching," said Asuryani Ranger derisively.

"I called them to help," Malleus Inquisitor snipped. "Doesn't that count?"

"Is that what Inquisitors like to do?" Asuryani Ranger barked. "Calling out people and disrupting them while in combat? Assuming they don't already know what to do?"

"I am not quite familiar yet with the concept of Adventurers," Tech-priest Dominus addressed Gretchin Slayer and Hospitaller as his two allies continued their bickering. "From what I learn so far, we take up quests from the Guild and then perform them in exchange for monetary rewards. In a way, we can choose whatever task to complete, but that doesn't mean we not dependent on the Guild's finance. It seems like an attempt to maintain a private army larger than what Imperial Law stipulates."

"It is," said Gretchin Slayer plainly.

"So, we are technically mercenaries for a law-evading organization, fighting Orks, and there is nothing those hard-butted bureaucrats can do about it? If I had known, I would have signed up years ago," said Malleus Inquisitor excitedly.

Asuryani Ranger scoffed. "So much for being a pious servant of the Imperium."

"Then how did you become an Adventurer?" Tech-priest Dominus continued. "No, perhaps I should rephrase the question: what caused your decision to depart from your Chapter to pursue a life as an Adventurer by dealing with Gretchin exclusively?"

"Are you familiar with the concept of the Hunt?" said Gretchin Slayer. "It is a tradition started by the White Scars and adopted by most of its successor Chapters, mine included. When the name of an individual enters Scroll of Vengeance, the White Scar would travel to the end of the universe to ensure their fitting demise. No matter how long it takes, no matter the cost, no matter the strength or trickery employed against them, the sons of Jaghatai Khan do not allow any foe to cross them twice. My Chapter, the Red Scar takes up the tradition but with a slight twist: instead of having a single Master of the Hunt to track down certain persons, we have an entire cadre of Huntsmen, each of whom responsible for one particular type of enemies, such as Ork Slayer or Chaos Cultist Slayer or Jetbike Slayer."

"And out of all the opponents you could specialize in dealing with, you chose Gretchin," said Asuryani Ranger matter-of-fact.

Gretchin Slayer nodded. "Yes."

"Why so?" asked Malleus Inquisitor. "Is there anything you have against them?"

"There is," Gretchin Slayer admitted. "The planet I was born and grew up on was invaded by the greenskins. Within a week, the Red Scar broke the back of the aliens and sent them on the run. Victory was declared. People came out of their houses and cheered. And then it happened. My town was ravaged by a Gretchin attack. They overwhelmed the town guards and ransacked the place, killing anyone they could find. My sister was among the dead that day. I saw the whole thing from my hiding spot. I still remembered how celebrations turned to mournings because the supposedly all-powerful Space Marines had been too busy pursuing the Orks that they allowed a large army of Gretchin to slip by."

"I am sorry to hear," Hospitaller cooed.

"No need," Gretchin Slayer sighed. "The incident was two centuries ago. Had my sister survived back then, she wouldn't now. But it did change me, in particular, the way I perceive how a Space Marine should perform his duty by ensuring no threat, no matter how unlikely, can manifest against the citizens of the Imperium. When I underwent training and indoctrination to become Astartes myself, I was ready to forget everything in my past life, but the Chaplain had encouraged me not to. He told me to gird my soul with righteous vengeance against the enemy of men, without ever looking back at why it was the case in the first place. I followed his advice, and here I am."

"You chose Gretchins because no one else would," Tech-priest Dominus concluded. "Because others underestimate them."

Gretchin Slayer nodded. "That's right."

"There is wisdom in that," Tech-priest Dominus concurred. "Gretchin plays an inseparable role within Orkish society, performing petty, yet important, jobs that their bigger cousins were incapable of. My colleagues have made the argument, which I too believe, that no Ork Waaargh! would function without the Gretchin slaves. Speculation: the destruction of the Gretchins will have profound impacts on the Orks as a whole."

"No Space Marine Chapter would function without all the serfs tending to them as well," Gretchin Slayer pointed out. "We wouldn't be ready to save humanity if our armors are undermaintained and the magazines of our weapons not loaded."

"I can see what the lack of people tending to you have done to you," said Asuryani Ranger, noting the dirty Vanguard Power Armor worn by Gretchin Slayer.

"There are facilities in the Guild to maintain your armor, sir Gretchin Slayer," said Tech-priest Dominus. "I am surprised you haven't used them."

"Gretchins are cowards, but in the fear of death, they adopted more measures of self-preservation," said Gretchin Slayer. "Sniffing Squigs are sometimes employed. They could smell fresh armor from a mile away. To approach them, I simply improvise. The Orks wear rusty armor, and so would I."

"For a solo mission that would be the case," said Malleus Inquisitor. "We are a party now. We'll have your back. So next time we get back to the Guild, please do us a favor and give that armor some love, will you?"

Gretchin Slayer pondered for a while as if to weight in the costs and benefits of doing so before answering. "I guess I will."

"And how about you?" asked Asuryani Ranger, addressing Hospitaller. "How did you end up next to him?"

Hospitaller explained how she was part of a local Sister of Battle branch and a very backward one it was, how her first day in the line of duty didn't turn out well when her leader decided to take a detour from the planned operation, how her group was ambushed by Gretchins and would have been utterly wiped out had Gretchin Slayer not intervened. After the incident, the convent had decided to cease all military activities for an unspecified period and Hospitaller would be relegated to work at a clinic. However, the first brush with death had changed Hospitaller in a way she didn't imagine, and it wasn't long before her heart desired to take part in combat. At the same time, the Adeptus Sororitas was struggling to make its mark in the conflict by being too defensive for its own good, its fighters only dealing with Orks that wandered into lands owned by the local Ecclesiarchy.

After convincing Mother Supreme, Hospitaller was allowed to become an Adventurer. But she needed a party. As a support member of the old team, she could never fight on her own. Unfortunately, the most capable warriors the convent could produce were either dead, incapacitated or already assigned to a fixed post. So, she took her chance and offered her assistance to Gretchin Slayer, her savior and the one Adventurer who was already not traveling with anybody else. They had been together for two weeks up to this point and, while Gretchin Slayer's methods were difficult for her indeed, she had not regretted her decision.

Asuryani Ranger gave a warm smile at Hospitaller. The latter didn't think she would find so much comfort in such an act by an alien. The convent taught her that the Aeldari were manipulative and condescending towards humans; so far, she had seen none of it. The alien girl seemed legitimately nice.

"Thanks for sharing," said Asuryani Ranger. "For your age, that's pretty brave. I guess it is only fair that I tell a bit about myself then. My Craftworld is in ruin. Many of my folks died in the Great Devourer invasion, and then a Chaos attack nearly destroyed what was left. Rebuilding is possible but will take time. However, time is always short when the enemies are out there plotting their next move to finally bring it down. That's why we must strike out first before they could amass the strength needed to lay us low. That's why I must become a Wanderer, one who travels among the stars and away from my people, in order to carry out this sacred duty given by the Farseers. And to do that, I must work together with you humans, no matter how obnoxious and short you are."

"I heard that," Malleus Inquisitor grumbled.

"I know I am an alien, and you guys are from a pretty racist society, not that mine is much different," Asuryani Ranger resumed. "But I also know that without the Imperial forces arriving as if guided by the hand of fate, my Craftworld would not have survived the second attack. For that, I hope we can all overcome the mistrusts in the past between our races. With our combined strength, we can really achieve something here."

"Don't worry," Gretchin Slayer assured her. "As long as the Lord Commander agrees with the Aeldari, I wouldn't have any problem. And as long as you stand with me, I shall respect and defend you like I would to a Battle-Brother."

"Mother Supreme would be displeased to see me around an alien," Hospitaller said. "But I know it is wrong to judge someone by their appearance alone. I am certain we will make an excellent team."

"You have my thanks," Asuryani Ranger smiled. "I hope I can count on you two. Unlike a certain someone who nearly got me killed two days ago."

Malleus Inquisitor laughed it off. "Hearing your story, I can say we've got one thing in common, the vendetta against the Tyranids. I grew in a mining colony on an asteroid. My people are nomad ad prospectors. We settle on an asteroid and extract every ounce of ore and precious minerals it could offer before jumping to the next one. I was told we were the refugees of a once-glorious civilization that was wiped out by the Tyranids centries before I was born. As for my background related to the Inquisition, I am afraid that is classified, just to let you know."

"The less I know about you, the less guilt I would feel when you kick the bucket," the Aeldari girl sneered.

"As a servant of the Omnissiah, it is my sacred duty to collect, record and deposit as much knowledge as possible in my databank," Tech-priest Dominus began on cue. "For that reason, I have traveled here, to a planet beyond the Imperium's border. My self-appointed task is to both assist the Inquisitor and make discoveries/apply knowledge of my own."

"That sounds pretty simple," said Gretchin Slayer.

"That is the gist of it," Tech-priest Dominus continued. "I am not doing this on behalf of the Adeptus Mechanicus; this is my personal journey. It is my religious calling to ascend, both body and soul, to a superior lifeform, one that is free from defections of the flesh but cannot erase humanity altogether. Whatever that method is, or what exactly I would become, I don't know. However, one day, all the pieces would come together and, armed with the accumulated knowledge from my travels, I would find all the answers I so desire."

"I'm not sure I would be glad if you do," said Asuryani Ranger, her eyes showing concern. "Many of my folks did the same in the past. They were frustrated with the unchanging nature of the Aeldari which had been the case for millions of years and tried to bring about the evolution the Old Ones had barred our race from. Most died, including their unfortunate subjects. Those that survive are now the Haemonculi in the Dark City."

Tech-priest Dominus paused for a moment. "Perhaps," he said with an unfamiliar sense of uncertainty. "I know colleagues who have gone astray, became the very thing they avoid, instead. Course of action: take caution. Goal is unchanged."

"See that you do, my friend," said Malleus Inquisitor encouragingly. His attitude so far had astounded Hospitaller. From the stories she heard, the Inquisition was extremely hardline and would exact harsh punishments on anyone they deemed to be a threat to the Imperium. Yet, so far, this one had shown not only fondness of the Aeldari, but also condoned Tech-priest Dominus's unorthodox, if not radical, objective in life.

The party hanged around for a while longer before taking their rest for the day. Only one room was rented, shared by Hospitaller and Asuryani Ranger who had refused to sleep in the place where humans kept their livestock. There was only one bed so both would have first-hand experience of sleeping next to a member of a different race. Hospitaller had to try her best to prevent the Aeldari girl from sleeping without a shred of clothing besides her for that would be completely inappropriate for a cleric.

Malleus Inquisitor, predictably, slept in the barn. Many Adventurers preferred the barn, not only because it was free but also because many chose hardship over complacency to better themselves as warriors. Gretchin Slayer also rested in the barn – he didn't as much sleep as he shut himself down like one would turn off a machine. Tech-priest Dominus didn't need to rest at all and instead spent the night inspecting the surrounding defense and taking notes on its effectiveness.

And so, their first day as a team ended.

* * *

The party departed early in the morning when the sun was still half behind the mountains and traveled on foot. Malleus Inquisitor's map took them into the limited zone, which both Gretchin Slayer and Hospitaller expressed some doubt to his decision: the area was limited for a good reason and it had nothing to do with the Orks.

As they went deeper into the forest, they came across piles of dead Orks and vehicle wrecks without any sign of whoever causing them. But there needed to be no speculation. Everybody knew no humans did this – this was the work of the Exodite tribes that had been dwelling on this planet millennia before the first human settler arrived. Relations between the two groups had been slight and, most of the time, they simply left each other alone. There were horrific tales of trespassers into the Exodite sacred lands being skinned alive savage aliens who repurposed their hides into decorations, yet there were also stories of them helping out lost travelers, providing food to refugees, and even fighting back against the Orks like what happened here.

The Exodites were neither good nor evil, just a force of nature.

Under normal circumstances, entering their territory without permission from the aliens was prohibited, for, unlike on Knightly planets, the Exodites here remained independent and free to punish trespassers without intervention from any Imperial force. Not only would the Adventurers risking their life for something that went unpaid (no posted quest ever dealt with the Exodites), but they would also endanger the peace between the two communities. However, Malleus Inquisitor was convinced the Chaos threat was worth the risk and that having Asuryani Ranger in the party would give them better leverage when it came to negotiation.

The party proceeded with caution. Asuryani Ranger and Gretchin Slayer scouted ahead for any potential threat, Exodites, Orks, Chaos, wild animals, or others. Eventually, just before noon, the group reached their destination at an old abandoned Exodite temple without issue.

The temple was constructed underground where rituals dedicating to the goddess Isha were once performed. For reasons unknown, the Exodites fully abandoned the temple thousands of years before human settlement. The Orks appeared to have moved in. Three trucks were parked outside the entrance and a Grot Tank was posted as sentry, turret swerving around in search of a target. Taking cover behind trees and bushes at a safe distance, the party halted to make their observation.

"This is the place," Malleus Inquisitor pointed at his data slate and then indicated the underground temple entrance. "If my intelligence is correct, this is where the Shadow Hand will carry out their operation. A blasphemous ritual, if I am not mistaken."

"I see only Orks," noted Gretchin Slayer. As if an afterthought, he added, "And Gretchins."

"Manipulation, deception, and subjugation constitute the Alpha+ Legion's modus operandi," Malleus Inquisitor elaborated. "And the Shadow Hand is the offshoot of the Alpha Legion. I have no doubt the greenskins and the Chaos Space Marines were working together. The simple-minded xenos are prone to falling for the false promises the heretics have in abundance. The Orks are like an arrow. Once released, they will need no further guidance to reach the intended target."

"A sound strategy indeed," Tech-priest Dominus concurred.

"All the more reason to stop them," Asuryani Ranger snipped. "And stop giving credit to our enemy."

"Agh," Hospitaller suppressed a shriek in disgust as she noticed the bloodied figure hanging pitifully from one of the Orks' vehicles. "Emperor on Throne, do you think she is still alive?"

"Most likely so," Gretchin Slayer replied as he zoomed for a better look. An Aeldari girl had been impaled through the chest on one of the many spikes protruding from the Ork War-truck, but that was not the only evidence of brutality inflicted upon her. The once graceful body sported dozens of cuts, gashes, and bruises, one of her hands had lost three of its fingers, and her skin was as white as a ghost. Despite the Orks' apparent thoroughness to ravage their victim, Gretchin Slayer could see her chest moving up and down as she took labored breathes. "Fortunately for her, the Orks had missed her vital organs. They did a bad job finishing her off before putting her on display."

"Well, unfortunately for her, now she's going to bleed out like a stuffed pig," said Asuryani Ranger.

Hospitaller flinched at the sight, remembering what had happened to that Adventurer woman Gretchin Slayer saved from the Gretchin-infested workshop two months ago. Surely, the Orks' propensity and willingness to inflict harm upon anyone they came across was unbound. She channeled her hatred against their atrocity into purpose and into vindication: Orks had no right to live, and she, along with her allies, would make sure of that.

"Then let's go in and save her," Hospitaller urged.

"Not so fast," warned Tech-priest Dominus before churning out another lengthy analysis. "We don't know how many Orks are in there. Three trucks. Transport capacity: twenty to thirty boyz each. Factoring in the reasonable assumption that Orks share assets to the fullest, enemy strength is expected in the range of between sixty and ninety. Equipment is unknown. The presence of three trucks and a tank suggests the enemy is well-prepared in arms; the correlation between usage of vehicles and possession of ranged weapons: highly positive. Party's strength is four. Combat being winnable: yes. Probability of victory: uncertain. Course of action: proceed with caution."

"That right is an Alarm Squig," Gretchin Slayer indicated the small creature about the size of a Gretchin pouching on top of the tank. The alien beast looked a lot like a football standing on two stubby legs, with a tail on one side and an angry-looking face on the other. Its tail was tied to a rope that went into the hatch. The mouth was gapping, large and without any tooth. "One stroke of that rope and it will scream like a banshee, likely alerting all the Orks inside to our presence. Killing it will also release all the noise, probably even worse. I know how to disable it, though. It's like disarming a bomb."

"No time to find another way in," said Malleus Inquisitor. "We need to sneak up on that tank and eliminate the occupants before they can sound the alarm."

"Let me take the shot," Asuryani Ranger volunteered, hoisting up her rifle and aiming.

"Do you know what you are doing?" asked Gretchin Slayer. The long rifle was unlikely to penetrate the tank. Even if it could, unless it could be made to fly in circles, it would not be able to go through the more than one Gretchin inside that tank. Exploding the fuel tank would definitely kill the Alarm Squig, defeating the purpose.

"Just watch," said Asuryani Ranger confidently. "Besides, we can't let her suffer any longer."

"Wait, no!" Malleus Inquisitor protested, but the Aeldari had already taken the shot.

The sniper rifle used by Asuryani Ranger left a silver trail in the wake of its shell. The shell went into the visor slit of the Grot Tank and, like a firework, fragmented into a thousand pieces, each razor-sharp and flying with the same velocity of the original shell. All occupants were splattered in an instance, their innards spraying the insides of the tank hull.

Though none other than Asuryani Ranger knew the full effectiveness of the shot, the altogether cessation of the turret's motion implied her method had yielded fruit.

"Excuse me, I didn't hear you. I was too busy placing my shot," laughed Asuryani Ranger sarcastically, much to Malleus Inquisitor's chagrin. "You know, the high important shot that will allow us to enter the temple without alerting every single Ork inside?"

"No response," Tech-priest Dominus noted. "They should have seen the shot."

"All dead now," Gretchin Slayer confirmed. "Now, we move in."

"Let's help her down," said Hospitaller gesturing the strung-up Aeldari girl. "No one deserves that kind of cruelty." Gretchin Slayer was reminded of the poor soldier at the observation post suffering the same, albeit more lenient, treatment after being caught by the Orks. Brawls were common within Ork society where only the strong grew stronger and the weak forever trapped in their place with no hope of progression. Under such pressure, smaller and weaker Orks tended to keep prisoners alive just so that they could transfer whatever abuse they suffered at the hand of bigger Orks to.

As the sun shining above like a scorching fireball, the party moved in. This would be their first battle together and all four were intended to make a good impression on the rest. Asuryani Ranger had already done so, but she still had much left to give.

The mood was varied. There was as much confidence as there was caution, as much internal planning as thinking "we go in there and kill them all, the end". There were Gretchin Slayer's usual bloodlust and Asuryani Ranger's newfound anger for the torture of one of her kin, but also indifference from Tech-priest Dominus and a bit of childish amusement from Malleus Inquisitor. Whatever the emotion, the one thing that mattered was that they were at each other's side.

And little did they know of the intricate plot that awaited them inside.

* * *

_**Author's note: The newest chapter is here. Hope you enjoy. This is the part where the party gets together similar to what happened in the latter part of Episode 3 of the anime. Some elements were changed to fit a modern - sci-fi setting and the backstory of all characters are explored.**_

_**Thanks for the reviews so far. Keep it up, guys.**_

_**Cheers.**_


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

**The enemy unseen**

With the sentry taken out, courtesy of Asuryani Ranger, the party had progressed towards the entrance to the underground temple. Gretchin Slayer disarmed the Alarm Squig by punching his fist into the thing's mouth and pulling out the specific organ responsible for making loud noises. The creature, as expected, did not survive. His methodological approach astounded and impressed both Malleus Inquisitor and Tech-priest Dominus, the latter previously estimating the successful chance of a direct approach to removing it would be a mere 23 percent. But two of the party members were too busy to bother.

"Is she going to be alright?" asked Asuryani Ranger concernedly as Hospitaller worked on the injured Exodite Aeldari. A part of her was boiling with rage at the sight of one of her kin so mercilessly tortured by the Orks, urging her to wipe out every last trace of the greenskins on this planet, but pride compelled her to maintain a tough posture whenever around humans. "By the stars, this is horrible."

Hospitaller agreed with the xenos girl, reminding herself of the fate of her unfortunate comrades in her first outing as well as the Adventurer woman Gretchin Slayer rescued from the workshop two weeks ago. Coexistence with the Orks was surely impossible.

"She's losing a lot of blood. I will see if I can do anything about it," the human girl replied. As her title implied, Hospitaller was skilled in treating the wounded and she demonstrated her ability by quickly sterilizing and applying bandages on the most serious injuries. She did her best, but it wasn't enough, far from it. The girl was still unstable, still bleeding heavily, and there was almost no way Hospitaller could, with her current equipment, prevent infection; for all she knew, the girl might have already been severely infected during her torment. Cauterization of the wounds like Gretchin Slayer did with Sister Superior would not work in this case.

"How is it?" asked Gretchin Slayer showing no emotion.

"This is beyond my capacity," Hospitaller admitted. She had finished wrapping bandages around the Exodite Aeldari's body, covering her like a mummy, and begun to work on securing them. The hole in her belly where she was impaled remained without a solution with blood continuing to drip through the bandage despite Hospitaller's many putting many layers onto it. "I am sorry, but I am still just a novice. She requires more proper treatments which I cannot provide."

Hospitaller could do little but blame herself. During the two weeks, she had stepped up on her prayers to the Emperor and, in doing so, had unlocked further Acts of Faith, both offensive and defensive, to increase her usefulness. Unfortunately, Acts involving healing and curing were still beyond her level, despite her efforts.

Maybe she wasn't faithful enough.

She wasn't too concerned back then. And now it might cost her.

"She needs a proper medical facility," said Gretchin Slayer. Though his voice was mechanical as always (not as much as Tech-priest Dominus), it was still refreshing to hear a Space Marine showed some care for a civilian, let alone an alien.

"The motel we came from," suggested Hospitaller. "It should have it."

"I will carry her back to the fortress," Asuryani Ranger volunteered. She was referring to the motel the party stayed at earlier, for the terminology applied by its owners was one of convenience and not substance. An Adventurer's place to bed was more heavily fortified than an Astra Militarum outpost. "I can run very fast even with her on my shoulder."

"No, you can't," Gretchin Slayer disapproved. "All of us are needed for the upcoming battle." By that, he meant he needed others to take out the Orks while he dealt with his favorite targets, the Gretchins.

"Leave her," said Malleus Inquisitor.

Asuryani Ranger was outraged by the decisions of her comrades. "Are you insane? I have little respect for the Exodites, but kin is kin. I cannot abandon her just because some humans tell me so."

"Put her out of her misery then," the Inquisitor reinstated. "That's the only way to help her now. Stop being so sentimental. We are here on a mission to save this entire planet, remember? If you really care for her, honor her death through vengeance."

"I don't want vengeance on anybody," Asuryani Ranger cried, exasperated. Her green eyes were streaked with tears. For a warrior who had lived for centuries, she seemed particularly emotional about this. "You think I won't put my best into killing Orks, or saving this planet, just because some primitive concept of tit-for-tat is not my motivation?"

"There has to be another way," Hospitaller agreed with her. She, too, was frustrated her own helplessness in the situation.

"Death while adventuring is a common occurrence," said Gretchin Slayer matter-of-fact. "You need to learn that fact and let it sink in. As Adventurers, we must sometimes make difficult judgments based on what we could, not what we want."

"We could, actually," stated Tech-priest Dominus. Once again, his quiet demeanor had rendered him almost invisible in the eyes of his comrades. "By the grace of the Omnissiah, she is still salvageable."

As he finished, mechanical parts on his back shifted around, reorganized themselves until a clear pattern emerged. Slim arms with talon-like hands, followed by legs, then a torso, and finally a cube-shaped head; a humanoid being made of steel standing slightly taller than Hospitaller detached itself from its master and bowed, awaiting command.

"What is that?" Asuryani Ranger exclaimed.

"A robot?" asked Hospitaller.

"Sicarian Ruststalker," Tech-priest Dominus clarified. "Not a robot. Combat Skitarii. Servitor. Augmented n Only 91% mechanical this one, the rest still biological. It can run at a speed of forty meters per second while carrying the wounded Aeldari girl. If my calculations are correct, it would bring her to the motel before she bleeds out, or before she dies to infection. And don't worry. This one is not radioactive." He didn't state the possibility of succeeding to avoid causing fear to Asuryani Ranger who looked to be on the verge of tearing her hair out.

"Then let's do it," Hospitaller jumped.

"Wait, are you sure you want make such wasteful use of a valuable resource?" asked Malleus Inquisitor skeptically. "I mean, the Ruststalker could prove useful in fighting the Orks in there. We don't know exactly how many they are, or what kind of arms they have. There could also even be Shadow Hand in there, Chaos Space Marines. Don't you think we might need all the manpower we can get our hands on."

"I will be sending out only one Ruststalker," Tech-priest Dominus assured him. "Reduction in combat effectiveness estimated to be four percent."

"I'll take that chance," Asuryani Ranger blurted.

Malleus Inquisitor scoffed defeatedly. "Four percent more likely for us to die just for that. Pfffft. Well, I guess I am the minority now. Even if I invoke Inquisitorial right, it won't matter, will it? Do whatever you want, but if we all perish down there in a close battle where the tiniest bit of help could have turned the tide, then I am telling the Emperor you are to blame."

"Good thing I won't be joining you there," said Asuryani Ranger smartly. "Aeldari souls go to the Infinity Circuit, remember?"

The many layers of bandage applied would keep the girl from bleeding out during the travel back to the motel, but Hospitaller wasn't about to let her be transported covered in only bandages. Instead, she asked Gretchin Slayer to rip out an Ork banner which she used as a makeshift blanket. There was no time to erase the foul iconography painted on it – Hospitaller wrapped it around the Aeldari girl so that as little of it would show.

Still wrecked by unthinkable pain, the Exodite Aeldari gathered what little strength she had left and snatched Hospitaller's hand, startling her. She began to utter something but words failed to escape her dry and scratchy throat, blood gurgling from her mouth. One of her eyes was shut and the other, crystal blue in color, looked at Hospitaller pleadingly.

"Everything is going to be fine now," Hospitaller assured the alien girl as she clutched onto her hand. "We are sending you to healers. Please don't do anything. You need to reserve your energy."

"S…s…s-top…them…," the Exodite Aeldari managed weakly before she entered deliriousness.

"That's exactly what we intend to," said Asuryani Ranger vehemently. "Don't worry about a thing. The Orks won't get away with it. Whatever they are going, we will put a stop to it. We will make sure they suffer a thousand times you did, those filthy Orks. You guys agree?"

"That's our mission," Tech-priest Dominus confirmed.

"Well said," Malleus Inquisitor concurred.

Hospitaller nodded reassuringly to the unconscious girl. "We will do it. Just be safe."

"You guys stop the Orks," Gretchin Slayer added. "I am here to kill Gretchins." Malleus Inquisitor, Asuryani Ranger and even Tech-priest Dominus hoped he was joking, but, after a fortnight traveling with Gretchin Slayer and having only seen him kill three Orks (all of whom directing Gretchins), Hospitaller knew he was being serious.

Hospitaller finished wrapping the girl in the fabric and allowed the Sicarian Ruststalker to take off with her. Sprinting at the speed of a hunting jaguar without endangering its cargo, the Skitarii headed back to the forest and soon disappeared from sight.

With their immediate concern and drama over, albeit taking longer than Malleus Inquisitor was comfortable with, the party focused their attention on stopping the Orks from whatever they were doing inside this temple.

* * *

The Orks didn't have the bright idea of setting up multiple guard posts around the compound, so the party proceeded through the hallway without being interrupted. The air was very damp and the only light available was from Hospitaller's staff.

"The Orks must be after something in particular," Gretchin Slayer deduced. "This place looks like it could be a perfect spot to set up for a base of operation, yet I am seeing none of it. I don't think the Orks intend to stay here for long."

Gretchin Slayer might have chosen Gretchins as his preferred enemy, but he had also acquired quite a bit of knowledge about the Orks during his service – after all, the more he knew about the Gretchins' masters, the better he would be able to destroy them. In this case, he noticed the lack of refurbishment by the Orks so far. The greenskins were obsessed with modifying everything they came across, both to enhance its use to inflict further carnage and to mark it as their own possession. Even if the Orks had not captured this place for so long, it would still seem strange that the place was not thick with barricades, banners and fetish glyphs. Instead, the temple looked abandoned as it had been for thousands of years.

"And neither do we," said Malleus Inquisitor. "This place is giving me the creep."

Hospitaller felt the same thing. The Orks were bad enough, but this was something else. The walls were covered in paintings depicting Exodite cultures including their everyday lives, the festivals that were once held in this place along with the dance and the music. Under the dim light of her staff, Hospitaller thought she saw the Aeldari figures on the wall began to move as if she were watching a movie instead of paintings. They were hunting and farming, dancing and embracing one another. Men and women, children and the elderly, beneath the eternal watchful gaze of two deities. Before anything, Hospitaller had learned the names of these alien gods: Isha and Kurnous. Faintly, she heard singing and laughing, the sounds of merriment.

Hospitaller recoiled as she pulled herself from the drawings. They were unclean, these xenos things. Only one god was holy and that was the Emperor of Man. The rest, including the Chaos Gods she recently learned existing, were blasphemous false idols.

"Don't look at the drawings," Asuryani Ranger warned.

"Why not?" asked Malleus Inquisitor. "Weren't they made by your kin?"

"You don't need to know," Asuryani Ranger replied dismissively.

Even Tech-priest Dominus was uneasy with what he was looking at. "My spiritual perception has fallen by seventy-three percent since I accepted the gift of the Omnissiah. Yet, I can feel something is not right. My sensors aren't working correctly."

"Nothing is right," said Asuryani Ranger. There was bitterness in her voice. Hospitaller wondered if she was still sore from what happened earlier, or that she too was affected by whatever permeating this place. "This place has been abandoned for many thousands of circles, despite an active and thriving Exodite community on the planet. Something must have happened that cause them to shunt this place altogether, and it's not the Orks. Probably not the Shadow Hand either."

"Should we comply?" asked Tech-priest Dominus.

"Of course not," Malleus Inquisitor snapped. "Don't tell me a servant of the Omnissiah would be afraid of some old ghosts."

"The dead does not harm the living," Asuryani Ranger concurred. "And the living is not influenced by the dead. The Exodites don't use spirit stones or Infinity Circuit, so it's not uncommon that their souls wander around several places for some time before they are exhausted and eventually absorbed by the World Spirit. Like I said, ignore the walls and move on."

"We made our promise to that girl," Hospitaller added. "We should see it through."

"Eyes straight everyone," Gretchin Slayer instructed. Given his helmet and his lack of any emotion normally, it was difficult to tell how much he was affected. "Let's move in one line. Put all your attention into the back of the person right in front of you. Don't be distracted by anything. Since you are most aware of the situation, perhaps you wouldn't mind taking the lead, Aeldari."

"With pleasure." Asuryani Ranger nodded.

The party proceeded in a straight line. Asuryani Ranger took the point with Gretchin Slayer right behind ready to provide cover. Next came Hospitaller and Malleus Inquisitor. Tech-priest Dominus strode at the back on his spider legs. They moved swiftly, for none wished to stay for even a minute later in this damned place that was taking its toll on their mentality.

For the next ten minutes which felt like hours, the party walked down the pathway that seemed to bend inwards, indicating a dome of some sort at the end. At one point, the imageries of a normal, peaceful life stopped completely, the section of the walls afterward completely covered in the red which Tech-priest Dominus wasted no time identifying as dried blood. There were many scratches, telltale signs of a battle, or perhaps a massacre, that had taken place in this temple millennia ago.

"Pay no attention to it," Asuryani Ranger reinstated.

They finally reached the entrance to the heart of the temple. As expected, the Orks were there. Unexpectedly, a number of them lied dead in the hallway, their bodies disemboweled and dismembered. The party approached the bodies

"Observation: the wounds match the weapons they are carrying," said Tech-priest Dominus. "Deduction: this was the outcome of a brawl."

Malleus Inquisitor sneered. "Ha, typical of these Orks. They will pick a fight with anyone, even themselves. Good for us. More of them killing each other means fewer for us."

"Not so typical is the fact they left all the weapons behind," remarked Gretchin Slayer as he pulled out a crude axe from one of the corpses and examined it. There sign of significant damage that would render it unusable. A number of knives, clubs, guns and even a big choppa (chainaxe) had also been discarded on the floor. "Orks are more resourceful than you think. They make their own stuff, but they would never turn down the opportunity to take from those they defeat. Orks also don't like sharing. They will acquire everything they can for themselves before others do. In this case, they should have looted the bodies until nothing is left."

"Maybe there were no survivors," Hospitaller suggested.

"Three trucks outside," Gretchin Slayer resumed. "Sixty Orks or three times as many Gretchins. There are seven corpses in the alleyway. Why no one noticed? They should be jumping at the loot like a bunch of piranhas. What kept them back? Have they all been killed in the brawl?"

"Well, we are about to find out," Malleus Inquisitor pointed out.

The party advanced towards the entrance. It was guarded by a large group of Gretchins – about forty of them, plus as many Squigs, each one twice as large as the Alarm Squig from earlier. The Gretchins themselves were mostly unarmed aside from a few knives and pistols, but the beasts they held were particularly vicious-looking. These ones bore many rows of sharp teeth and their mouths were constructed in a way that made biting at the speed of a sewing machine possible. Their legs were powerful, no doubt to be better able to sprint and dash at their prey. Despite not being chained or bound, the Squigs appeared docile and did not simply feast on the punny Gretchins next to them. The Orks had trained these creatures well.

Strangely enough, the Orks had gathered inside the temple, but they were either subdued or butchered on the floor. Standing in the middle of the chamber, a Weirdboy was recognizable from the lack of cranial coverage on the back of his head, leaving most of the brain exposed, and the white paints on his face. His entire body was afloat and green energies crackled from his eyes and gaping mouth. From what Gretchin Slayer knew, several Ork tribes, particularly feral ones, retained a shamanic culture and those that could draw powers from the Immaterium were revered as messengers of their warlike gods. Most of the time, however, the Orks' reaction to psykers was akin to most humans within the Imperium. Psychic powers were considered either un-Orky or too dangerous, one of the very few categories that caused the greenskins to adopt self-preservation. Its practitioners were shunted from at best and outright persecuted before they could cause any harm at worst.

"What are they doing?" asked Asuryani Ranger worriedly. "There are psychic discharges all over the place."

"Not sure," Malleus Inquisitor replied. As a psyker himself, the Inquisitor could easily tell the fabric between realspace and the Immaterium had been torn asunder and the nightmarish beings on the other side were drawing close. "But it's nothing good. Given the temple's history, I can only imagine they are trying to summon whatever had caused it to be abandon in the first place. Daemons, Chaos Space Marines, you name it."

"They have not summoned anything yet," Tech-priest Dominus observed. "But not for long. We must move in immediately."

"Those Squigs look dangerous," Asuryani Ranger pointed out. "Those jaws could bite me in half like a sausage. Any idea on how to deal with them?"

Gretchin Slayer was already on the move. But instead of taking the fight to the living greenskins and their pets, he had decided to ravage one of the corpses further until he collected a copious amount of blood on a piece fabric. "This," he said.

"Ewwww," Asuryani Ranger complained as she covered her nose. "What is that? Bait?"

"No," Gretchin Slayer explained. "We mask our presence. Those Attack Squigs are trained to avoid harming Orks, which they can only identify through their sense of smell. The Gretchins have little control over them. If we 'pretend' as Orks, we can dispatch the Gretchins and move past them. The Squigs won't likely attack."

"Is it genuine?" asked Malleus Inquisitor.

"It does sound plausible," Tech-priest Dominus agreed. "If we could avoid fighting forty Attack Squigs or so, that would be both safer and time-saving. Chance of success calculated: no accurate figure given. Estimation: probable."

Malleus Inquisitor conceded. "Fine then. I shall have some Ork guts please."

"Have all of you humans lost your mind?" Asuryani Ranger bellowed as softly as she could. "This is disgraceful. I am not playing this barbaric game of yours."

"Have fun getting eaten alive then," Malleus Inquisitor sniggered.

"We all made a promise, remember?" Gretchin Slayer insisted, holding out the blood-soaked rag. "All of us are going in, including you. Even if you stay out here, those Attack Squigs will fall upon you like wolves on a rabbit. This is the only way."

Asuryani Ranger was adamant. "This rabbit can outrun those wolves, thank you."

"And how do you contribute when you are just keeping them off your back?" Gretchin Slayer reinstated.

"Cleric girl, tell him to stop." Out of option, Asuryani Ranger frantically looked to Hospitaller for support, hoping the girl's adherence to the Imperial Creed would persuade her away from this foul act. Instead, she was greeted by the blank face of someone who had all but given up a while ago, and happily so.

Hospitaller smiled sadly. "You will get used to it."

Asuryani Ranger froze in terror as Gretchin Slayer drew closer to her. All the males in the party had adopted the camouflage. Now it was her turn. Without long, the muffled distressed cry of Asuryani Ranger could be heard.

"No! Wait! Get away from me, you dirty humans! Aghhh!"

One minute later, all five members of the party sprinted out from cover. Shouting, the Gretchins released the Attack Squigs at the assailants only to find their pets looking confused. The Gretchins tried again to push the beasts forward but was responded by annoyed grumbles. It was clear: they would not attack those Adventurers who bore the same scents as their ultimate masters – the Orks. One glance and anyone could tell Gretchin Slayer's plan had worked perfectly.

The Gretchins panicked. Some fought back while others fled. They still outnumbered the Adventurers eight to one, yet the situation was all but hopeless. Had they been better armed with blunderbusses or heavy weapon tripods or had there been vehicles or walkers with them, the Adventurers would have had second thoughts about a frontal assault. As it stood, the Gretchins' primitive sidearms and knives couldn't hurt so much as a lowly Guardsman, let alone four angry combat veterans armed to the teeth.

Gretchin Slayer ran straight through the herd of still dormant Attack Squigs and crashed into the Gretchins like a meteor, splashing limbs and organs in the process. The shotgun, or any firearm for that matter, was out of the question for any stray shot into the Squigs would signal he was not friendly, prompting the beasts to attack out of self-defense. If not, the loud noise it made could scare them off and cause a stampede which would only serve to hinder his objective. Gretchin Slayer had no problem dispatched any Gretchin within his reach using adamantium gauntlets and boots. Those that attempted to escape his wrath were quickly rewarded with poisoned darts into the back of their heads.

Asuryani Ranger, Tech-priest Dominus and Malleus Inquisitor made their way across both the Squigs and the Gretchins into the heart of the temple where a foul ritual was taking place. They didn't bother leaving the Gretchins to the Space Marine to deal with while going after the bigger fish – it was the reason they wanted him in the party in the first place. As always, Hospitaller stayed at the back ready to channel her faith into utilities, both physical and spiritual, to help out her allies when needed.

Malleus Inquisitor smashed a couple of Orks aside with his Daemon Hammer while Tech-priest Dominus cleared out a swath of them using a Cognis Flamer that just appeared on his shoulder, likely assembled just then. Held in place by the coruscating energies, the greenskins were unable to respond; in fact, given their blanks eyes, they probably weren't aware of their surroundings at all. The two Adventurers set about decimating the immobile foe in their way with little difficulty as they cleared a path towards their objective – the Ork psyker.

The Weirdboy saw it coming. As it turned out, he still maintained a degree of freedom to act despite in the middle of channeling his psychic power in the ritual.

Needless to say, he was not happy.

"Get away from 'ere humies!" Bellowing raucously, the creature vomited a bolt made out of belching plasma at the Adventurers. "Dis aint' ya place to be!"

"That's the thousandth time I've heard that." Malleus Inquisitor threw out his counter-spell in the form of an energy beam that seared at the plasma bolt. The Ork-created psychic projectile went wide and, even though it had a large blast radius, succeeded only in incinerating a couple more Boyz while leaving the Adventurers intact. "None of those who said it made it out alive."

"Fool" the Weirdboy bawled. "Ya dunt know what'z creeping 'ere. No matter, I'z kill ya all and then I shall finish the weirding."

"I believe he knows something," Tech-priest Dominus proposed as he reduced more Orks to atoms. "Maybe you should keep asking him questions."

"Good idea," Malleus Inquisitor concurred. "Incapacitate but do not kill him. He has much to answer to me."

"On it." Still drenched in the disgusting fluid Gretchin Slayer made her to, Asuryani Ranger took up position behind her two allies. Her mood was not the best.

She was still sored from witnessing the brutality unleashed on one of her kin earlier.

The desolated temple and its baleful aura unsettled her.

And now Gretchin Slayer's unorthodox tactic put an end to any sense of pride she might have left.

None of the above could justify inaccuracy at a crucial time like this.

Before the Weirdboy could churn out another bolt, Asuryani Ranger put a las beam through his neck, nearly decapitating him. The Ork physiology allowed the creature to survive, but only just and his psychic channeling fully stopped as soon as he hit the floor.

Instead of the feeling of relief that the malignant outburst of energy had come to an end, the Adventurers were hit by a terrible feeling that something was no right and that the Weirdboy had only been trying to suppress it. No longer bound by the ritual, the Orks regained their consciousness and drew their weapons.

The one next to Malleus Inquisitor raised his axe.

Instinctively, the Inquisitor readied his hammer to parry.

The Ork struck.

And chopped off the head of the Ork next to him.

Across the chamber, the Orks fell upon and butchered one another in mindless fury.

The Adventurers were astounded by the development. Nevertheless, they carried on; as Malleus Inquisitor stated, the more the Orks fought each other, the fewer they had to kill.

Asuryani Ranger drew the short straw as she was beset upon by two Orks from different directions. She took down one but the other was with arm's reach poised to strike when she turned around. At that moment, an energy barrier appeared and blocked the incoming blow. Asuryani Ranger took a second to collect herself before firing back. The force field only functioned one-way and the las beam went straight through both the barrier and the Ork's skull. Much like the weapons used by the Vindicare Assassins, the Aeldari long rifles were hand-crafted to lofty qualities and capable of dispensing a variety of different munitions.

"Thanks for that," said Asuryani Ranger to Hospitaller whose staff now glowered brilliantly.

"So glad I could help," the human girl replied. Asuryani Ranger understood how she must be feeling. Hospitaller was, without a doubt, the weakest link in the group. She had little military experience, no exceptional physiological feature, and carried only a laspistol for self-defense. Her Acts of Faith, as she called it, provided utilities that were both situational and non-aggressive in nature. In a situation where the Adventurers were obviously winning hard, it was easy to forget she was even there.

With all the Gretchins dead, Gretchin Slayer finally entered the chamber with a boltgun as he mowed down any Ork coming at him. Apparently, he had been carrying this perfectly standard Astartes equipment all along but refused to make use of up until now. And who could blame him? Each explosive round of the boltgun was not cheap to produce and using on Gretchins was like killing cockroaches with a howitzer.

Unlike Gretchin Slayer who conserved ammo as best he could, Malleus Inquisitor and Tech-priest Dominus showed no restraint and slaughtered the greenskins indiscriminately, taking grim satisfaction in the deed. Within minutes, all the Orks were dead.

The immediate threat was over.

But the sense of unease remained.

"We have stopped them," said Hospitaller. Though she had not taken part in any direct combat, she appeared to be most shaken. "Maybe it's time for us to leave. The Emperor protects. I'm not feeling well. I'm sorry, but I really can't stay in this place any longer."

"We should," Gretchin Slayer agreed.

"Not yet. Talk, Ork," Malleus Inquisitor shouted his demand to the barely surviving Weirdboy. "Tell me what you were you doing in here and I will put you out of your misery quickly."

"Dis planet…wunt be offering much loot…if it iz burned to the ground," the Ork babbled. The wound the neck had not wholly removed his ability to speak. "Boss wunt be happy. He wantz dis planet and all itz wealth to be his. Dat'z why I must stop it from happening."

"Stop what, Ork?" Malleus Inquisitor pressed.

"Being burned to the ground," the Weirdboy replied, annoyed. "Didn't ya hear me saying?"

His statement confused the Adventurers greatly. To them, the Orks were the ones who wished to see this world burn to the ground rather than to prevent it. The feeling of uneasiness was replaced by an urge which grew stronger and stronger.

That urge was to maim and kill.

The Adventurers didn't notice it before. There were so many Orks to fight that they had believed it was a natural state of the mind to have.

"By whom?" Malleus Inquisitor resumed his inquiry.

"It," said the Weirboy plainly.

"What is it?" Malleus Inquisitor repeated.

The dying Ork was pointing to the floor. Looking down, the Adventurers noticed the small gutters dug onto the ground which all the blood spilled earlier was being absorbed into. The pattern of the gutters was clear to all and corresponded to a blasphemous symbol Malleus Inquisitor was all too familiar with, one that had nothing to do with the Aeldari except the explanation as to why this temple had been abandoned in the first place.

"What is it?" asked Hospitaller.

Malleus Inquisitor took a deep sigh. He should have realized this from the get-go. He was an Inquisitor, after all. It was his very job to fight Chaos, not play the role of its puppet. For a few seconds, he was dumbfounded as realization struck and guilt overtook him.

Instead of stopping the Shadow Hand's nefarious plot, he had led to its fruition.

Instead of preventing a ritual that would have summoned beings of Chaos into the temple, his party under his instruction had completed it.

"What's going on?" Asuryani Ranger was terrified and confused.

"Lord Inquisitor, are you alright?" asked Tech-priest Dominus.

"This is a trap, isn't it?" stated Gretchin Slayer.

Before Malleus Inquisitor could reply, the blood in the gutters glowed brilliantly, flashing baleful red lights across the chamber. Energies cackled wildly once more, hovering above the symbol like a storm cloud. With a thunderous explosion, it came.

The thing which the Weirdboy had been trying to prevent.

The same entity that drove most of the Orks to insanity and killing each other.

That which had infested this temple ever since the Aeldari were driven out never to return.

A Greater Daemon of Khorne, a Bloodthirster, appeared in the chamber, summoned by the bloodshed which the Adventurers were responsible for.

"I AM RETURNED, AS THE EXECUTIONER OF KHORNE, AND STAND READY TO CONTINUE HIS WORK! THIS PLANET WILL BURN ONCE MORE! LET NONE ESCAPE MY WRATH! BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD! SKULL FOR THE SKULL THRONE!"

* * *

_**Author's note: Here is the next chapter. So far, I am adapting the Goblin Slayer storyline with some tweaks to make it more 40k, as well as more unpredictable to anyone having read the LN or manga, given the lack of new characters added to the main cast.**_

_**To prevent any confusion, I will leave an Apendix at the end of each chapter to indicate which Goblin Slayer character does a character in this story corresponds to.**_

_**Gretchin Slayer - Goblin Slayer.**_

_**Hospitaller - Priestess.**_

_**Asuryani Ranger - High Elf Archer.**_

_**Malleus Inquisitor - Dwarf Shaman.**_

_**Tech-priest Dominus - Lizardman Priest.**_

_**Enjoy.**_


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

**Against the odds**

It came from a hellish dimension where mortal souls were playthings of evil gods.

A red, massive, and angry hulk of flesh and sinew. It was at least ten meters in height with humongous bat-like wings sprouting from its back and two blazing horns atop its head. The creature's only piece of clothing was a belt made of bronze and it wielded an ornated axe larger than weapons mounted on Ork walkers.

A Bloodthirster, introducing itself as Executioner of Khorne.

This one had laid foot on the planet many millennia before the current events. Back then, it had brought untold bloodshed and driven the original Aeldari inhabitants from the temple never to return ever since.

Now the wait was over.

Now was the time.

The Executioner of Khorne had returned to finish what it started.

Upon arrival, it claimed its first victim in millennia by crushing the gurgling Weirdboy – the one so desperate to prevent its summoning - to paste, all except the head still cackling with untamed psychic energies. It took no relish in the act of slaying a hapless foe. It wanted more.

Luckily, there were a handful of Adventurers who, unwittingly, summoned it into real-space in the first place through the slaying of the Orks and spilling their blood all over the ritual floor.

"Blessed Emperor," Hospitaller muttered feebly as a fresh sense of terror overtook her, freezing her in place.

"You are not a Gretchin," Gretchin Slayer remarked. He took a deep sigh. "I did not sign up for this."

Though his words carried conviction, his voice betrayed a sense of uncertainty. Not afraid, rather concerned. During his years of service, this was the first time he had come face-to-face with a Daemon of the Warp – such enemies were rare and usually requiring very specialized units to deal with. That being said, he knew well enough that the Forces of Chaos could summon Daemons and he knew the four Ruinous Powers and what they stood for – the rest was up to his deductions.

The nonchalant comment drew a pause among all those present, followed by varying thoughts.

To Hospitaller, it was a testament to Astartes courage that he was showed no intimidation or any sign of being swayed by the turn of event, only annoyed that his query turned out to be a giant monster instead of the Gretchins, his preferred enemy.

To Aeldari Ranger, her father's hypothesis had been proven. Normally, a Space Marine gained additional body mass both directly from the supplementary organs as well as from the strict diet that was adopted immediately following the implantation. According to her father, the torso and limbs grew exponentially in size but the head remained pretty much the same, resulting in more energy used to maintain functions of the body and less into complex thoughts. This ultimately caused the Space Marines to enter a state of constant mental breakdown which could only be mitigated by constantly purging those who they deem unclean – a phenomenon commonly coined as "Tiny head syndrome".

To Malleus Inquisitor, the Red Scar's Hunt culture might be beyond just obsession and fanaticism. Any evidence of deviation, no matter how slight, among the Adeptus Astartes would never fail to catch his interest. After all, every heresy must have a beginning, and that could be anything from using forbidden technology to complaining about a leg issue that prevented one from bowing before the statue of Emperor of Man.

To Tech-priest Dominus, the revelation that Gretchin Slayer was ill-prepared to face a daemon was to be expected given the equipment he carried and his combat style so far, but detrimental, nevertheless. If his calculations were correct, the Adventurers would have less than five-percent chance of making out alive, let alone preventing the daemon from leaving the temple and spread carnage to this world.

To Executioner of Khorne, while it was pleased that its would-be victims didn't run crying the moment it showed up like the Aeldari thousands of years ago, the fact it had been compared to lowly Gretchins incited a vehement response.

"YOU DARE MOCK ME, MORTAL?" the Daemon bellowed, its thunderous voice causing the whole chamber to vibrate.

If there was any hope that the Bloodthirster would be distracted, like generic villains in stories, by mere talking for long enough so that Malleus Inquisitor could come up with a plan (it was his job to fight Daemons, after all), that didn't last long. No sooner had Gretchin Slayer took up a defensive stance than the Greater Daemon came flying into him at maximum speed, clearly intent on crushing him to death under its weight rather than using the axe. Most Space Marines would have perished then and there, turned into mash inside their own Power Armor, but Gretchin Slayer's more advanced Vanguard model allowed him to slid across the blood-stained floor as the Daemon passed over him.

The Bloodthirster rammed into the wall, causing a section to collapse and debris to fall onto it. The temple was extremely old but the ancient Aeldari had constructed it remarkably well despite the lack of advanced technology; despite all the damages it had taken, the chamber as a whole stood. Uninjured but enraged by its prey's audacious maneuver, the Daemon turned to set its sights on the Adventurers and readied itself for another go.

"YOU WON'T GET SO LUCKY NEXT TIME, SCUM!" Executioner of Khorne barked furiously as it took off on its wings. "I WILL END YOU ALL. AND THEN I WILL END ALL LIVES ON THIS MISERABLE WORLD!"

The Daemon's mishap raised the hope of the Adventurers: there was no telling if they had the means to kill it yet, but if it was susceptible to folly and hubris like any human, then there had to be a way to exploit them.

Aeldari Ranger was the first to open fire with her long-rifle. A second later, Tech-priest Dominus joined in, hurling searing plasma balls at the Daemon. The Bloodthirster tanked the las fire which only caused minimum damage while evading the plasma projectiles with an amount of agility unimaginable for a creature so large. With a loud roar, the Daemon soared to the air just below the ceiling and prepared to deliver a devasting strike with its huge axe.

Gretchin Slayer took a step back and briefly drew out a plan. Even when fighting alongside his Chapter, he, as a Vanguard Space Marine, most of the time operated apart and with considerable independence from not only other units but also within his own unit. A Tactical squad would be given constant orders by their leader at every move to ensure maximum efficiency, but Vanguard Space Marines were different. Gretchin Slayer unit would be assigned a particular task, and all members must be able to contribute their insights on how to best achieve it and what role would they play in doing so. Vanguard squads, therefore, effectively had no leader to tell them around or make decisions for them.

Observation, analysis, being quick on the uptake, and even creativity in applying the knowledge from the Codex Astartes, these were all qualities expected of them.

Coordination, obedience, camaraderie, and social skills, these were qualities considered secondary.

From what Gretchin Slayer could see, it was clear that the axe the Bloodthirster wielded was suitable for slaying larger targets like tanks, walkers and other Greater Daemons. Using it on Adventurers was like smashing Gretchins with power fists, not to mention the difficulty in swinging a weapon of such monumental size inside this chamber without hitting walls and ceiling. The Bloodthirster made the right choice of not using it, but still holding on at the cost of having one fewer free hand. Adding this, the weight of the axe was destabilizing its balance.

Negligence? No.

Mental attachment to the weapon? Perhaps.

Another use for the axe? Highly likely.

The contemplation would have taken minutes on normal men but Gretchin Slayer processed within a second. "Hospitaller, do it," he said to the still-dumbfounded girl. "Blind it."

At the Space Marine's words, Hospitaller snapped out of her stupor. She nodded and began to chant. "Oh, Blessed Emperor. Shine our path so we never lose our way even in the depth of darkness. Let us bath in Your radiance. Holy Light!"

Yellow beams of light burst from Hospitaller's staff and filled into the chamber, as bright as the sun itself and coruscating brilliantly on all the fresh blood on the floor. The Bloodthirster was half-way downward when it was struck and repelled, forced to abort the attack and remained in the air on flapping wings.

"WHAT SORCERY IS THIS?" Executioner of Khorne demanded. In addition to being blind, it found not only its eyes but also its skin boiling under the intense light.

Aeldari Ranger and Malleus Inquisitor watched the scene with awe. Like all the other Acts of Faith - the Adeptus Sororitas beseeching of blessings from the Emperor - Holy Light worked only one way and had no ill effect on allies.

"Damn, girl," said Malleus Inquisitor as he too regained his composure from coping with his failure. "That's some trick you've got there. No wonder Beardshredder here decided to have you in the party."

"Hey, airhead," Aeldari Ranger admonished. "Less talking and more fighting, please."

The shooting continued with Malleus Inquisitor drew a laspistol and added to the firepower. Gretchin Slayer stood in preparedness for the Daemon's next move but did not take on an offensive stance – he knew all of his available weapons were of little use against such monstrosity and didn't want to waste precious munition. Even in its distracted state, the Daemon was as fast as it was tough. Laser rounds made impacts without causing any noticeable damage while plasma projectiles were expertly dodged.

Executioner of Khorne had had enough. Though a little challenge was always a good thing to test out and improve its skills, defeat was not an option. Furthermore, it would be a great embarrassment to both itself and its master for losing to opponents that made use of dishonorable magic arts.

Gathering its strength, the Greater Daemon launched itself directly towards who it considered the individual which it identified as the current greatest threat whom it didn't even register at first: the human priestess. Tech-priest Dominus who had struggled to land a single hit so far took advantage of the Daemon's new predictable movement pattern to calculate where he should place his shots. Designed specifically to deal with heavily-armored soldiers, the plasma cannon would have profound effects on the Bloodthirster despite its unnatural origin and constitution.

Unable to dodge during its descent, the Bloodthirster had no choice but to grin and bear it as the superheat substance scorched away unholy flesh and vaporized the thick, oil-like substance it had for blood. It would be worth it, the Daemon told itself. The wounds would heal in time and the Adventurers, as far as it could see, didn't have the means to kill it outright. All the pain it suffered now would be child's play to what it had in store for these daring Adventurers once it had them firmly in its hands.

Still in the middle of her channeling, Hospitaller was fully unprepared.

From above, the Daemon descended like a giant wrecking ball with the intention to crush the girl beneath its weight.

Gretchin Slayer was on the move, his second heart kicking in as a surge of adrenaline was pumped into his bloodstream. If calculations were correct, he would be too late. If acting purely on instincts, he would take cover and allow the girl to meet her fate.

Not that he was fond of either calculations or instinct to begin with.

The human girl gasped as another body ran into her and tossed them both aside. A brief moment later,….

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAM!

True to its unnatural strength which was disproportionate with its already huge size, the Bloodthirster made its landing with the force of a meteor, causing a seismic shock that saw the whole temple tremble but not collapse. So violent was the impact that it splattered blood-soaked dirt, dust and dead Ork bodies across the chamber.

Hospitaller was mostly safe, much to her surprise, despite being flung across the chamber. Had her savior come a second too late, she would have been liquified. Moreover, her frail body could have easily sustained significant injuries, if not outright demise, from the shockwave alone had her savior not shielded her with their own body.

"You… should not have done that," she whispered to her savior.

"I guess… we are even," said the Aeldari as she took in labored breaths.

Compared to Hospitaller, Aeldari Ranger was in much worse shape. By taking the impact of both the shockwave and the landing to herself and absorbing the human girl's share of damage, she had effectively removed herself from the fight. Both her arms and at least one of her legs were broken. Her back was a mess and she was bleeding profusely from her nose and mouth. Hospitaller felt the warm liquid running on her fingers and cheeks as she embraced the broken Aeldari girl, feeling the frail body sagging and her breathing becoming more laborious. Asuryani Ranger was beginning to lose consciousness.

"Stay with me," Hospitaller teared up as she panicked to tend to her fallen ally. After what had transpired on her very first day in combat, Hospitaller had made it the purpose of her being to prevent as many faithful deaths as she could. Though the Aeldari wouldn't pass for a faithful with her pagan ways (which Hospitaller still was uncomfortable with), every life dedicated to the Emperor or assisting someone in service to the Emperor was precious. "You did not have to do it. Why did you…?"

The Aeldari had already fainted.

Gretchin Slayer had indeed miscalculated. He had not counted on any of his comrades which he had known for only a day to put themselves into harm's way to save Hospitaller (he didn't even count on himself to do something like that). All three seemed the pragmatic type, much like himself – which was why he was willing to tag along in the first place.

Perhaps Aeldari Ranger had come to the realization that Hospitaller's skillset could prove highly useful against the Bloodthirster. Perhaps she was simply overconfident in her ability and didn't expect to be taken out of the fight completely because of the maneuver. Or perhaps there was something between the two of them that Gretchin Slayer failed to understand.

Whichever the case, that was one member down, only four left.

Gretchin Slayer had put himself dangerously close to the impact point when the Bloodthirster finally landed and was thrown ten feet back as a result. Graviton stabilizer unit on his power armor kicked in and, despite rolling a few times in midair, Gretchin Slayer landed on his feet unharmed aside from concussion from the intense vibration.

Both Malleus Inquisitor and Tech-priest Dominus were still on their feet. Neither was close enough to the impact.

The Bloodthirster was making a recovery as Tech-priest Dominus continued his relentless barrage of plasma. Without Holy Light from Hospitaller, there was nothing to deter it. It brought its huge axe to bear.

"Watch out," Gretchin Slayer cried out. "Get down, Tech-priest."

The Vanguard Space Marine could only watch as the axe came flying through the air towards the Tech-priest, no doubt identified by the Bloodthirster as the current most valuable target. Either the warning had come too late or Tech-priest Dominus was simply incapable of such action due to his spider legs, no drastic effort was undertaken to evade. The axe cleaved him clean in half at the waist before hitting a section of the wall and being embedded into it. Both parts of Tech-priest Dominus fell to the floor, motionless and powering down.

_Two down, three left._

"Die scum!" Malleus Inquisitor charged into the monstrosity, eager to make up for his mistake and avenge his comrade. "For the Emperor!"

_A foolish decision_. Gretchin Slayer thought.

Malleus Inquisitor swung his Daemon Hammer crackling with psychic energies. Had it connected, the damage might have been severe, for force weapon like this was specifically designed to bring down the largest of foe in a single blow. As it turned out, however, the Bloodthirster was still as deadlier as ever in such a state and without its weapon. Free to make use of both its hands now that the weapon had been released from its grasp, the creature reached down and out with one of its fists almost as large as the Inquisitor himself. The punch sent the old man into the opposite wall, dropping his hammer in the process.

Malleus Inquisitor trailed down the wall and dropped to the floor unconscious. He was still alive. A psychic barrier had been created at the last moment, absorbing the full brunt of the blow instead of letting the body take it. Without it, Malleus Inquisitor would have been pulverized by the punch alone. A second barrier was then erected just as his body was about to hit the wall, also helping to reduce the impact. The old man was full of tricks, but it would be insufficient against the Bloodthirster.

_Three down, two left._

Then Gretchin Slayer realized Hospitaller had already used two Acts of Faith during this engagement, one to save Asuryani Ranger back then (rather unnecessarily), and one to distract the Bloodthirster just now. Despite his lack of knowledge in how the Sisters of Battle channeled their faith into actual powers, he was certain Hospitaller told that two was her maximum limit for one day. Without her miracles, the fragile girl had no reason to be in combat.

_That means I am the only one left._ Gretchin Slayer thought grimly.

The Bloodthirster could have pressed the advantage and proceeded with its mad charges as it did at the beginning, and Gretchin Slayer might not have had time to think about his next move. Yet, like any honorable warrior when his opponents numbered in one, it halted for a moment to take a better look at Gretchin Slayer - the final adversary and the only thing standing between it and total victory. Such hubris could be punished if there were only any means to do so.

"GIVE IT UP ALREADY, PUNY HUMAN?" the Daemon asked.

"No," Gretchin Slayer replied blankly. "I think I will keep fighting."

The Daemon laughed. "BRAVERY WILL NOT SAVE YOU. AND NEITHER WILL YOUR FAITH IN A FALSE GOD."

"Come at me then, and we will see," Gretchin Slayer taunted.

"GLADLY. GIVE ME YOUR BEST SHOT!"

Bare-fisted and roaring, the Daemon came at Gretchin Slayer. It moved at a slower pace than before, partly because of the injuries but mostly in order to better react to any maneuver by its undoubtedly crafty foe. In response, Gretchin Slayer stood like a statue, his glowing red eyes staring deep at the daemon's.

"Sir Gretchin Slayer, watch out!" Hospitaller cried.

The Daemon threw its punch just as Gretchin Slayer launched a grappling spear into the chamber's ceiling. The strike shook the temple and left a sizeable hole on the floor, the one it was meant for had zipped up just in the nick of time. Driven into a fury, the Bloodthirster stretched its already tattered and overburdened wing and pursuit.

"YOU WON'T GET AWAY SO EASI…HUH?!"

As the Daemon gathered speed in its ascension, Gretchin Slayer detached himself from the wire connecting him to the ceiling and dropped down. The Bloodthirster was unprepared and allowed its prey to slip away once more, mere inches away from its grasp. Gravitation unit kicked it again and Gretchin Slayer landed safely on his feet despite falling from over twenty meters while wearing power armor. Despite limited aerial movement, Gretchin Slayer knew he had the advantage of being smaller and lighter, which meant he was less affected by inertia than the far bulkier Daemon.

The infuriated Daemon came down once more, but Gretchin Slayer had already fired another lance. The Daemon landed just as the Red Scar took to the air. As he predicted, for all its prowess and expertise in close-quarter combat, the Bloodthirster was ill-prepared for a game of cat and mouse.

"TURN BACK AND FIGHT ME, COWARD!" the Daemon furiously barked. It turned its infernal gaze towards Hospitaller who was still busy treating Asuryani Ranger. "DO YOU WANT THAT GIRL TO SUFFER MY WRATH IN YOUR PLACE?"

"Leave her out of this, daemon scum," Gretchin Slayer hissed. "You want a fight? Pick a warrior as your opponent."

The Bloodthirster steadied itself for its next leap. "IF YOU ARE A WARRIOR, THEN FACE ME WITH WHAT YOU'VE GOT!"

"I won't run this time," Gretchin Slayer proclaimed. "I swear it upon my soul."

"IN THAT CASE….DIIIIEEE!"

As expected, the Bloodthirster launched itself directly at Gretchin Slayer who, for the first time in many months, muttered a prayer to the Emperor. As a Primaris Marine, the new generation of Adeptus Astartes, he had believed his devotion to the Emperor was better displayed through actual deeds than empty words and thoughts which any lesser mortal could do as well as a superhuman Space Marine. The Red Scar might have been his adopter, but his initial training, indoctrination and biological processes of becoming a Space Marines were mostly conducted by the Adeptus Mechanicus, for they held the technology required to create Primaris Marines which his Chapter had not yet gotten used to yet. Very little supervision was put into during this time – the Adeptus Mechanicus wasn't keen on letting others pry into their secrets. As a result, while not being fully converted into the cult of the Omnissiah like the Techmarines, Gretchin Slayer adopted a more secular, logic-driven point of view that persisted after he returned to his Chapter as a full-fledged Astartes, much to the disapproval of the Chaplains who regularly chastised him for the lack of faith. Under the circumstance, however, Gretchin Slayer reluctantly admitted the shortcoming of his ideology in dealing with certain situations.

Such as dealing with a horrific opponent that logically shouldn't be existing.

Such as being put into a situation where he faced an insurmountable odd.

In a time like this, faith in Emperor gave him the comfort and confidence he so desperately. All the planning and deception had come to this. Now it was time for the execution.

As the Bloodthirster flew up, Gretchin Slayer fulfilled his promise detached and let gravity take him to exactly where the Daemon was. In its moment of triumphant, the Bloodthirster didn't notice what he was carrying in his hands until it was too late.

"Eat this." Gretchin Slayer shoved the Weirdboy's decapitated head at the daemon.

The fizzling residual of energy inside the head suddenly intensified before blossoming in full force. The two malevolent energies, greenish Orkish and reddish daemonic, met as violently as hydrogen and oxygen, each rejecting one another and each striving for supremacy. Their battle was spectacular. All of this was happening inside the Bloodthirster's throat, much to its detriment.

"AAAARGGHHHHHHHH!"

Wracked by the pain which destabilized its whole existence, the daemon screeched as it fell to the floor. This time, it choked and sputtered, struggling to even get onto its feet.

Gretchin Slayer landed next to the flailing daemon. He wasn't sure whether this would work, but it was his last chance – their last chance. The gambit had paid off.

"Use the hammer, Beardshredder," Malleus Inquisitor called out gruffly as he shakily pulled himself together.

Gretchin Slayer grabbed the Daemon Hammer dropped earlier by Malleus Inquisitor when the Bloodthirster swatted him aside. It was similar to the thunder hammer used by the Adeptus Astartes except it could be further enhanced by its user psychic power, allowing the weapon to inflict damage both physically and spiritually. Like the head earlier, there was enough residual psychic energy left that the weapon remained operational and sizzling with electrical discharges despite being wielded by a non-psyker.

"ARGHHH! HOW….DARE….YOU!" the daemon screeched.

"You are truly an annoyance," said the Astartes. "But not as much as some of the Gretchins I've faced."

"WH-A-A-AT?"

The Bloodthirster rose, only to receive a hammer blow to the head, pounding it to the floor again. Not letting his foe recover, Gretchin Slayer raised and struck.

_WHAAAM!_

Again.

_WHAAAM!_

And again.

_WHAAAM!_

Gretchin Slayer lost count how many blows he delivered. He wasn't aware the daemon was already dead – he had no idea how daemons' physiology worked. This time, he was taking no chance.

There was also the satisfaction in the act, something he had not felt for a long time. Gretchin Slayer assumed it was the daemon's aura messing with his minds and driving him into a murderous rage, not unlike the daemon's itself. Like an invisible hand, aura had been there from the very beginning and it got only stronger when the Bloodthirster was summoned into the material realm. Or perhaps this was his intent all along, motivated by pride and the glee to bring death to the enemies of the Emperor. Gretchin Slayer had never taken any pride in killing Gretchins before.

He raised and struck until all that was left of Executioner of Khorne's head was a bloody pulp.

* * *

To Hospitaller's immense joy, and Asuryani Ranger's perplex, Tech-priest Dominus had also survived the ordeal despite getting cut in half. He went on to explain that the damage was by no means superficial with more than half his original functions lost and a further third of his remaining having to be shut down due to running on secondary batteries which would expire within ten hours if continuing. Not that any of his comrades fully understood what he was talking about the whole time, but Gretchin Slayer agreed to carry his upper part back to the Mechanicus shrine where he could undergo some repairs. The Adventurer's Guild also offered its own mechanic workshop, but Tech-priest Dominus insisted on a proper Omnissiah-blessed facility. The lower part had to be left behind for the time being; most likely a quest would be posted asking for its recovery.

Their objective completed (sort of), the Adventurers made their leave from the temple. Gretchin Slayer had wanted to perform another sweep to ensure none of the Orks and Gretchins was still alive, but his opinion was rebuked by the four weary Adventurers who were in no condition to fight. He relented, and so they departed. With the Bloodthirster destroyed, the malefic aura that permeated the hallways had all but evaporated, allowing the Adventures to depart without further issue.

As they crossed the entrance, the party halted at the sight of about ten or so Exodite Aeldari waiting for them outside. The aliens were armed mostly with bows and spears, even less sophisticated than those of the Orks, yet exotic-looking and highly ornated. Having seen how effectively Gretchin Slayer can put outdated weapons to use, the party knew not to underestimate their crudeness as they approached the Exodites, wary for any sign of hostility. On this world, despite hundreds of years living together, humans and Aeldari were only able to coexist as long as they stayed away from each other, and the known encounters (at least from human perspectives) had been with varied outcomes.

"By Asurya's grace, we have come in peace," Asuryani Ranger called out. "We bring no hostility and expect the same from you."

"If you are upset about us entering your temple," said Malleus Inquisitor smartly. "Then perhaps you should be really pissed off about what the Orks were doing in there. We took care of them. That's got to earn some points, right?"

"We wish you no harm," declared an Aeldari who appeared to be the leader. The person was male and wore the skull of an animal with larger antlers over his face. Unlike Asuryani Ranger, his voice was coarse and lacked the melodic quality, likely the result of age. "Please, do not hesitate to step forward."

"If this is a trap," warned Gretchin Slayer, "know that I have already devised at least six ways to kill you all without any loss on my side." Despite his strong words, he showed no sign of ostensible hostility. Then again, a Space Marine was capable of perceiving and reacting to anything many times faster than a normal human.

"That would not be necessary," the elder responded to the threat coolly. "In fact, we are in your debt. That temple has been tainted by the daemon for so very long. So many fell, yet we only managed to seal it away. Generations passed and we live in fear that it would one day return to. That fear has followed us for circles beyond counting. But now it is finally over. The daemon has met its final end and we may now reclaim this temple in the name of Earth Mother and Father of the Hunt."

"You are welcome," said Gretchin Slayer uninterested.

"Splendid," chirped Malleus Inquisitor. "It seems our effort here wasn't wasted at all."

"Great… I mean, uhm…," Hospitaller stuttered in her words. She wanted to say something nice to them, as befitted of a priestess like her, but the religion these aliens followed was too different from the Imperial Creed that just thinking about it made her uncomfortable. "Thanks,… I guess."

"We found this _thing _carrying the wounded girl," said the elder, pointing to a pitiful heap of scrap metal that was once the Rustsalker dispatched by Tech-Priest Dominus. That the Exodite managed to take it down lent some credibility to the deadliness of their primitive weaponry. "We appreciate your help, but we deem it best for the girl to be in our care. Know that we tried to negotiate peacefully for the handling at first. When it refused, we had no choice but to resort to more forceful methods."

Having spent much time with the Mechanicus, Gretchin Slayer had fully expected a harsh scolding from Tech-priest Dominus for the destruction of one of his precious creation. However, the tech-priest's response was the exact opposite.

"All machines can be replaced or rebuilt, and their values would not diminish," he replied. "Such is the wonder of the Omnissiah. The same thing cannot be said about flesh. To exchange what is cheap and common for what is not, irrespective of their usefulness, is always fair. The damage doesn't seem too severe. Estimated time required to put Rustalker back into condition: seventeen hours. Estimated time required to put self back together: fifteen hours. Conclusion: by the day after tomorrow, whatever transgression occurring today will be reversed."

"Thank you for your forgiveness," said the elder, slightly unnerved at talking to the detached upper half of a person.

"How is she?" asked Hospitaller. "The girl."

"Her injuries are grave, but no longer life-threating," said the elder. "We saw that she had received a very considerate treatment. Your healer did a marvelous job. Without you, she would not have survived. Once again, you have our gratitude."

"Isha be thanked," Asuryani Ranger breathed, feeling the weight disappearing from her chest.

"Sorry for the mess in there," said Malleus Inquisitor, remembering the state of the main chamber when the party left with fallen debris and Ork body pieces all over the place. As a pious follower of the Holy God-Emperor, he understood the rage one would feel seeing their place of worship so horrifically defiled. "Couldn't help it. You might need to clean it up before anything else."

"That we will manage," the elder assured. "We shall take over the temple from here if you don't mind. Or is there anything we should be concerned about?"

Malleus Inquisitor crackled. "Not at all. Just don't send us the bill for the damage and we are good to go."

"Not yet," noted Tech-priest Dominus. "My lower half is still inside. We lack the facility and willingness to extract it at the moment. Within the next couple of days, a recovery team will arrive, with or without me. I do hope the salvaging will encounter no difficulty at that point."

"We can... uh... arrange that," said the elder uneasily. Though he had regularly conversed with souls of the dead that now dwelled within the planet's spiritual realm, talking to someone clearly alive despite looking quite dead was a whole new experience for him.

"My thanks," Tech-priest Dominus replied.

"Anyway, you all must be worn from the fight," said the elder. "Allow us to provide you with the ride back. It's the least we could do to repay your actions here."

"That's very generous of you." Hospitaller bowed in gratitude at the mentioning of transportation. The fight had taken much of her energy away, both physically and mentally, and she wasn't sure how long or how far she could support the injured Asuryani Ranger.

"Beats walking, I guess," said Gretchin Slayer insouciantly. "Let's go."

The five Adventurers (or four and a half given the current state of Tech-priest Dominus) got inside the wagon along with the remnant of the Ruststalker as the horses began to pull. There was no coachman; the Exodite elder said the horses were borrowed from an Imperial staple close to the town where the Adventurer's Guild was and they were trained to follow specific paths without fail, traveling between Exodite colonies and Imperial territory from time to time. It was a way of making exchanges between human and Aeldari communities without ever coming face to face.

"Shoving that Ork psyker's head into the throat of the daemon," Malleus Inquisitor chuckled in his remark. "That was a stroke of genius. Pure genius."

"I must agree," Tech-priest Dominus added. "That was beyond my expectation."

"That's how you brought it down, Orkbolg?" Asuryani Ranger inquired. Though she claimed she could walk on her own, Hospitaller insisted on supporting her, which the Aeldari ultimately complied with. "The daemon. Is that how you kill it?"

"That only weakened it," Gretchin Slayer pointed out. "It was the hammer that finished the job. Good weapon, by the way." Malleus Inquisitor gave a wide smirk and a thump up at the compliment. "As for the trick, I only got lucky it was lying around. Without it, I doubt any of us would have made it out with our lives."

"We Aeldari do not believe in luck," Asuryani Ranger smiled. "Only in fate."

"Such sentiment is something we share," Malleus Inquisitor assented. "Beardshredder, surely the Emperor was watching on us this day."

"Perhaps that as well," Gretchin Slayer nodded.

"Have faith, sir Gretchin Slayer," Hospitaller encouraged. "Your actions back then were exemplary. The Emperor is proud to have such a servant."

"So, is this what you would call an adventure?" asked Malleus Inquisitor. "Since Pointy-ears, Ironscale and myself are new to this sort of business, we look forward to you two veterans sharing your wisdom with us from now on."

"Can you interrogate him later?" complained Asuryani Ranger as the human girl helped her lie on her back. Malleus Inquisitor had taken a bruising himself from the Bloodthirster, but his wounds were nowhere as serious as the Aeldari girl, much thanks to his psychic powers. "We just got back from a hard fight. I'm not in any mood for cramming at the moment. And let's be frank, none of us is well right now."

"She needs some rest," Hospitaller agreed. "I think we should rest until we get back."

Of all the party members, only she had gotten out physically unscathed, though her mind was strained to the limit from the activation of Acts of Faith under immense pressure. Moreover, the encounter with the daemon, an unnatural being from another dimension most humans were blissfully unaware of, had put a stain upon her soul. Malleus Inquisitor had warned her that lesser minds were corruptible simply by exposure to Chaos, much so that entire Astra Militarum regiments had to be mind-wiped or entire planetary population sterile to prevent the taint from spreading. Hospitaller didn't feel anything different now that the daemon's aura no longer bothered her but just to be sure, once she got back to the convent, she would confess her sins of being in the presence of a daemon and seek the purification ritual.

"I might also need to repair my cogitators before any new knowledge is acquired," Tech-priest Dominus stated.

Malleus Inquisitor shrugged. "Fine by me."

"The Guild gives out manuals on how things work," Gretchin Slayer explained. "Not awfully long, but quite detail and inclusive. It would be better if you just use the provided material. I do not believe any of my perspective in the matter would be more helpful than that."

With that, the wagon felt silent. Tech-priest Dominus initiate sleep-protocol which limited his senses and activities to conserve energy. Malleus Inquisitor had also taken himself a nap. Only Gretchin Slayer was on the lookout, casting a vigilant gaze at the surroundings for any threat.

"He seems very intent," Asuryani Ranger whispered to Hospitaller who was treating her wounds. "Yet, for all the respect I have for him, I still don't get it. His eyes are low. It is not Orks he is watching out for, but Gretchins. He is a Space Marine but he kills only Gretchin if he is given the choice. Does he always do this?"

Hospitaller was reminded of the conversation between Gretchin Slayer and Black Templar Crusader a few weeks ago, and how the two had remained cold to each other ever since. Though they regarded each other as cousins, there was nothing that could connect the two with the clash between Gretchin Slayer's full commitment to his specialization and Black Templar Crusader's strong adherence to his Chapter's code of honor the main reason.

"Yes, that's what he's been doing" Hospitaller smiled wryly.

"His planning, his posture, his attitude," Asuryani Ranger continued, reminiscing every moment of Gretchin Slayer she had seen so far. "All of them tell how lonely he is even when among his party, how he is uncertain whether he belongs. I can tell. We Aeldari are experts in reading emotions even if people don't express them. My guess is that he has been feeling like that and move on, mentally, for a while now.

"It does seem like it," Hospitaller agreed sadly. So focused was her on the warrior aspects of Gretchin Slayer that she wasn't aware there was a side of him that yearned for understanding. She had always viewed him as stoic and unmoving in the face of detraction, a heroic figure walking out of a storybook. She had not expected him to be actually affected by the unfavorable thoughts of others.

The Aeldari sighed, closing her eyes. "Adventurers are supposed to be exhilarating, you know what I mean. An escape from mundane businesses. A way to spend one's life without regret. A calling for greatness to come. I left the cornucopia of my Craftworld for them. I yearn for the joy of accomplishment and the thrill of discovery. I know that the Inquisitor and the Tech-priest desire the same thing, to lesser extents. As for Orkbolg, he seems completely on a different page."

"Maybe we should encourage him someday," Hospitaller suggested. "Though given he is a Space Marine, I don't think we can do much."

"I take that as a challenge," Aeldari Ranger reaffirmed herself. "One day, I will bring him along to a real adventure. I will make him feel it. And if I fail, then, as you humans are so keen on saying: The Emperor protects us all."

Hospitaller responded with a reassuring smile. Her life as an Adventurer was about to get much more interesting from now on.

* * *

_**Author's note: I appreciate all the support so far. I will try my best to keep this one going.**_

_**To be honest, I am not a fan of the Primaris Marines. Sure, upgrading the Space Marine is the right direction lore-wise and gameplay-wise. However, the whole lore about Primaris Marines made up by GW just feels so rush with tens of thousand Space Marines appearing out of nowhere to kick some asses. A better scenario is that the Imperium starts creating Primaris Marines at some point after the 13th Black Crusade. The Primaris corps start out small and well-integrated into existing Chapters before growing and eventually making up of entire Chapters on their own. But of course, they want to sell a bunch of new models and fear that non-Ultramarine players would be pissed that it would take a while before their beloved Chapters get Primaris of their own.**_

_**Goblin Slayer in Warhammer 40k, in my opinion, would make a good Primaris Marine. Primaris Marines are originally recruited and trained by the Mechanicus away from their Chapter, so their perspective is bound to be less restricted compared to the regular Space Marines. **_

_**So far the story has been structured somewhat similar to the LN, but there will be original arcs unrelated to the source material coming up. Hope you enjoy.**_

_** Cheers.**_


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